fuck, man. remember, this is where we came from? where our feelings met each other. we were real, we were honest, or at least we thought we were. i don't know about you, but i cannot tell an honesty to save my life any more. i pack it neatly in layers, silk paper yellow blue and pink, with a ribbon or string like the string i imagine hanging myself from because i cannot stand the sight of my stupid eyes in the mirror.

we talked through feelings. we felt. i can't feel anything any more.

MY BODY'S A ZOMBIE FOR YOU