talking is like having a mouth full of sprinkles that you can’t taste i spit them at you. shaking hands door creaks. stomps on the stairs. i want to run down them and ask what the deal is. why an attitude of a dark crimson shadow lighting a cotton candy sky. snowing. i walk in it but it burns my eyes i turn to talk to you but it’s a silent yell i barely move my legs now stumbling the tears fall under the fathers eye i can’t even reckon why those tears fall and leave a tail of glitter on my painted cheek or why i want to tear down this wall only to build it back up with the vines i found near the gutter on the dead end sign. cackling at the dopamine in my veins. mirror be honest with me and let me speak at you even as i spit these words .curse and break the glass. night so lovely but the carpet decays. don’t use me.

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