"Facts are bigger in the dark."

Sickness says the sea and sky and all it’s creatures don’t exist. There’s only you, clenching your teeth and having flash images of upper thighs.
Heavy room.

Letting it go and falling back asleep is ideal, but I get that weighing feeling someone left the stove on and I shouldn’t.


It’s not about eliminating
It’s about navigating through.

there’s mountains of it

I pick it up with my hands and it spills through,

filling up in piles around my feet

it’s vast and green

it’s warm 

and it’s faithful

it’s always there and it will never go away 

it feels like home 

it feels like home

it feels like home

let the blood rush

as I rise to my feet