slashed and stretched in all directions. time wears so thin and just barely brushes against my shoulders here at school. one quiet blink, one short gesture and suddenly the world is unexplored again- so new, it's exhausting.
i respond with a harsh, raw call- a crackling of the lips, a breaking of intonation- and i deflate a little more each time. i conjure a fresh, witty sentence; a brief moment passes and that golden strand withers and drifts into the conscious night air, and i am a little less whole.
it's exhausting to wake up to the day and respond to its harsh demands of being charmingintelligenthappy. i can't know what that means anymore and i don't even know what i've become.
