Slowly ascending unfamiliar porch steps that creak with discomfort. The unease of cults lodged in other peoples' teeth and throat. The melting lines of aging, spiderwebbed by sunspots. Residual cocaine mania and stoned long walks. Half-scrubbed out by swiss chard, cheap chard, cheap decisions, and decision disavowal. The slow seep of desperation into lining and seam. It was all so beautiful, until it wasn't. And we threw it all away because it was weird and familiar.

4:36 p.m. - 2022-05-10