- Sound: Cat scratching in litter box
I cramp.
Away from you, (because of your absence)
or because of you?
I think about painting but
this canvas is too big.
I think about living but
this world is too big.
The inevitable is always standing
just outside the door
with all of life dripping from pointed teeth,
pooling submissively on the ground
and evaporating
as if it never existed.
There is no afterlife.
Maybe bravery
can finally be found
in the magic my body can create
(the only sort of magic I may possibly believe in.)
Maybe someday soon
that magic will have healthy eyes
and ten fingers and ten toes.
Or maybe tomorrow
I only start all over again
with the bloating
and bleeding
and, finally, the relief
from this worthless, useless
hormonal hell.
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