"home is where the heart is"

fancy mirrors and bitten-to-all-shit nails;
my life is spinning around my head and collapsing into bitter jagged pieces.
the chip on our (my) favourite teapot matched the one on my tooth before i found it in the trash (you don't just toss expensive china when it cracks you fucking glue it together you fixityoufucker) -
there's so much to hear and so much to say and still nothing at all just like it once was.
denial, anger, bargaining, depression, acceptance
it's all mashed together in some technichrome monocolor smudge on a dollar-store notebook page.
irreplaceability is plausible and gut feelings aren't real (but those who say so are fucking liars and frauds);
and i can still smell your breath on my neck and feel the bruises on my knees from april,
and i'm such a sore fucking loser (sour, gross, chemical flavours like chewing up prozac),
and this rented basement is wearing my tooth enamel down;
i wanna go back home.

09/30/23
- ch.rlie