Wednesday, March 11, 2026

unvitaled

Mirroring death,
weary as hell,
I climb back onto my razor's edge.

Saturday, March 7, 2026

flopper

Amygdala overactivated, flutters of terror.
No appetite to speak of.
More depressed and anxious than I would be otherwise.

Ineffective.
Highly problematic.
And everything else.

Time to back out of this familiar murder scene.

ol' bobby stalwart

These days I get high on sitting with pain. Sitting with fear, sitting with shame. Shitting the same: not all that great. To do a good deed,...