every phone call starts with oh good
you’re alive. i’m not sure how much longer
i can keep doing this. the apartment smells
like tea rose & heat. my city is empty—
the only sunlight reflected in droplets
what is transness if not persistence
i’m starting to think i’m not good
with words. in case of an emergency
i am asked to survive more often than i’d like
sorrow is thick in my blood. skin woven
scorpion venom, a bottomless pit
give me a bruise. the drumming locomotion
what i meant was resistance as in every day
i wake up is another day to experience joy
~
socials are @lunareyhall
