Why'd You Make Me Come Out
2024. Digital.
You held a bottle of something, picking at the label like I could peel the fresh blistered skin off the back of my neck. You sipped it without caring. Just easy. I tracked the cadence of a flickering fluorescent tube on the ceiling because it was something to do that took concentration. It never stopped moving, just like everything else. And suddenly it was weaving and crawling and spitting. It popped violently and I sank deeper into myself. Soon I would go home with not you and think the thoughts I had tried not to remember. Just so I could lie down and feel my body less.
