tiny bones
I have casting in an hour but no energy to paint my face on and fake being pretty.
I dreamt the earth was uncovering all its mouths. (As if it was tired. The revelation felt almost like a warning.) They were round and lined with rows of sharp teeth. Caterpillar mouths. Hellboy’s Conqueror Worm. I found one by the seaside. The sand was soft under my feet. I lit a candle and climbed inside.
In the mornings, when I wake up, I can not speak.
A blank page.
I dreamt there were pandas and polar bears in the middle of the road and I was trying to save them. The cars were coming, metallic, glittering and dangerous. It reminded me of a poem I read by this girl. It was the end of the world and I waited for the waters to come swallow us all.
In the mornings, when I wake up, I can not speak.
