coal black dog swan

I’m having a lot of coffee. From the moment I wake up. Bottomless cup on the glass table. I sleep well, I wake up fine, I want to wire up and dress down and drink something that’ll touch me months later.

Curling up into a ball of anxious spaghetti mess.

Jittery teeth, nerves raw, do not caffeine like some compensate overtly.

I’m tired of making sense.

So many lies.

Peel off all the layers off.

False starts.

I want to be there. And make it work, this noggen.

My one knee is a man and my elbow fancies itself to be a woman.

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