My bottle of superglue is cracked and calcified. I've run out of electrical tape for my half-dozen injuries. I hear another week of threshing myself into health would find me put into traction. I've never learned how to mend without movement. Old age doesn't have the courtesy to stop and allow me to heal. So makeshift ice packs and hour long baths with scalding water must suffice. The scars accrue slowly, and without acknowledgement. A part of my brain must have broke from being wound too tight. The little gear-cluster named "vanity" cracked and stuck, unmovable.
12:18 p.m. - 2017-02-20
Recent entries:
Tossi Propter - 2018-07-02
Summerscorch - 2018-07-02
Heartdesert - 2018-06-25
Elliptical - 2018-06-25
Back and Callback - 2018-06-18
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