my thoughts run wild. like thorns on a bush. the same ones i used to stitch your sweater with. so you’d itch for more. so you’d feel. but now these thoughts are fenced off in a small vacant room. with a single lamp in the corner. flickering to the rhythm of the mistake of us being here, togetherso i grab a hold of your wrist to smash that light. because tonight is the night i’ll sleep, aloneand in my sleep I’ll dream of silence. and let go of days when I itched to make you feel.



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i always feel like i’m running out of time–that the dimensions of the world are inching closer, closing in, trapping in my slow-moving limbs–and i cure this illusion by attempting to think otherwise, begging for logic, waiting for release. but then it always comes down to this:

i am, quite literally, running out of time.


TANK BY Sweet Claire Clothing

photos by Calvin Bellas

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depth of chaos

i had a dream that i forgave you
and it went something like this:

in the depth of the chaos we both worked so hard to create
in the midst of a reality we both worked so hard to push away
did you think
for one second
that perhaps love
is a thing we can share
not just to pull in for control
and push away for comfort
but just to keep close
and not just in a dream
but in reality

and in my reality
it goes something like this:

i forgive you


THIGH HIGHS by American Apparel

TOOTH NECKLACE by Grand Bizzare

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