for the first time i am completely fine in my own.
i am terrified of failure. yet right now it is all i can produce.
i feel like myself again. i don’t know if i should be proud or terrified.
(don’t worry it’s already happening)
“are you guilty of arson?”
“yes, of my own mind.”
all my ghosts laugh at how i live my life now. and it doesn’t bother me even the slightest bit.
california’s burning down but all people care about is putting videos of the flames over trending audio for a couple bucks.
this summer’s haze feels like lifetimes ago. i was happy and tanned, eating raspberries by the river with my friends. i want her back.
i came home with blood on my hands and you were terrified of what i’d done to someone. it never occurred to you that the blood on my hands was my own.
i believe i was a brilliant poet lifetimes ago. but now the words fall from my lips all wrong.