"we have the same feelings that we have had"

i knew what was different when my skin didn't crack.

my callouses didn't burn.

my stomach didn't sink.

i just internalized the loss. embraced the weakness.

toe to toe with "one day at a time"

it has become as routine as watching you sink into cold/dead/skin

the void where that fire went

or where the last one rested its skull. fucked.

or the next one

the rope hanging from my fathers hotel window

around. my. neck. on. my. head.

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