trick spent a nervous night in my fingers. blue stubble. baby thin. ruffle and fall. always stopping and restarting, but never ever rebooting. if only. i want to slice my fingers to the bone so the bandages can make me clumsy enough not to pursue any more of his false pleasure he offers. the allure is too strong these days. and i only suffer from it.
tomorrow is dirty old jeans, red hoodies and notebooks.
yesterday was screw-ups, greasy strands, and overwhelming exhaustion.
today was anything but gold.
but it could've been silver.
i want to cease to exist.
more than anything.