The words I speak appear on my skin. Like black snakes they crawl across my body. There’s so many of them that they can’t move freely anymore.
My body’s not a canvas, it’s a toilet wall littered with curses and profane jokes.
I’m like an island lost at sea, incapable of swimming to a shore where I could find a different life.
In my mind, seven allegedly beautiful angels are sitting on a wall, drinking their last beer. One calls out, where the fuck do we go from here? And as they weep in a heartbreaking melody, I can feel the world break down.
I’m running on empty promises. Puny attempts to break free from the chains I’ve put around my ankles keep me occupied, but it’s never enough.
It’s never enough.