scribbles, dark spirals from prime meridians on scraps of paper. hand gestures and secrecy, so many people in this world and i'm so lonely, the destruction of weakness within the pattern.
my tongue is metallic, and you, i can feel your pulse throbbing in my chest. i try all of this to get away from you, yet, here you are, omniscient as ever.
the colors that run away like melting candle wax as my eyes seek light, the numb feeling right before drunk, the lies i insist on telling myself, that's what my world is reduced to these days. such as...
i'm not angry.
but i do hate you.
ghost
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