blah blah blog 

sometimes i still feel it piercing through me clawing at me nothing too drastic a minor inconvenience nothing tragic nothing, really how can a womb feel empty when it was never her kind? no room for her persistence irritated by an existence so humorously lost slumped and exhausted by the end of a race twice-ran where is her trophy now? sometimes i still feel it i wanted to wake her i wanted to thank her but wanting is a selfish thing it’s funny

have u ever worried your anxiety is performative...a paradox of anxiousness...all a big act...a perpetual loop...am i worse than a man...? it feels like a spectacle some flailing performance grasping at straws while gasping for air - always neglecting your hay fever juggling flame is much less impressive when no one else can see it when the heat is imaginary frantic arms unbridled by a false perception signal an urgent distress you beg to be treated for a bloodless