i was already feeling small tonight, and i wrote down the knives, recorded them safely away from my skin, but not safe enough, not without pockets full of blood. no one warns you that you'll end up this removed from the world. they tell you to be brave and ugly, they tell you to live so goddamn bright, and now i've seared my eyes, all ash and smoke in the sockets, all remains in my ears.

alone, loud and roaring in flames, wretched, wracked, trying to wonder.

but it's so loud! this silence! this fire! this. this. this. this. if you could see, you would probably help. you might take an ember away, you might kiss at teeth.