again, it haunts me.
I exist: a collection
of past histories.

to be detached here.

my brain remains stained:
a thin film of sepia, still,
coats every corner.

to be detached, here.

here: a test message.
half-assed half-fuck confession
said off the record.

to be detached: here.

I have forgotten
the foreign feeling; how to
be fine, be normal.

——–to be detached here.——–

————

My 10th post here 🙂