bodycage

so many separate aches they should each have their own name i should give them all little jumpsuits to wear with a tag on they're so fucking cold and lonely they're like achey aa meetings where everyone has a hangover and sits apart from each other hugging themselves shielding themselves with shoulders but each person is a bone in my body and each hair on my skin is a sting and each of my toes remembers frostbite and my mind is numbed, i think i feel my brain shrinking and shrivelling like a freeze dried raspberry and am i sulky for thinking i never get anything i want

i want to think of glorious happy things but they've all lost the power to make me smile everything is laid flat kilamanjaro / gulf of mexico there's nothing to choose between them, just flat out highway to nothing and the yellow flowers on a winter windowsill are like cholera to me, told me i'm not alone but i know it already this is just what living is like and why we all give ourselves so many burns and cuts and bruises and smoke and starve ourselves out of the bodycage by slow degrees