Dead Week.


My breath freezes, catches, as if a zipper that can’t fully – release.

It’s a world where you need to be better, smarter, and have stronger expectations of yourself. And others.

Develop that thick skin.

The air’s crisp, I’m watching his eyes through my phone screen. They’re warm, soft, opening – they’re ready. He came out of here. But –

I haven’t yet.


And that time she called me out on being too much of myself –

Oh – God – that horror.

Fingernails scraping onto the last piece of everything when it shoots down that shredder – and you forgot that you needed to know that one last thing

But even that wasn’t enough.

The silent week – The numb Weak –

Can’t get pity here.



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