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ocean,

anguilliform


table of contents 1 olfactory nerve 2 optic nerve 3 oculomotor nerve 4 trochlear nerve 5 trigeminal nerve 6 abducens nerve 7 facial nerve 8 vestibulocochlear nerve 9 glossopharyngeal nerve 10 vagus nerve 11 spinal accessory nerve 12 hypoglossal nerve


a h v e

y

i o r

t o t a n.


i saw a beautiful person today. her hair \]\ grew in patches from her skull, her snapback hid the shame her tumour showered her with. her bone-tight leggings seized what skin she had left with her    stained hoodie                   /          ^grey her frail fingers  with tips painted red   trembled their way to the cashhierʼs hand and made her way out;;;; with  christmas cards for her dead son.  i saw a beautiful person today. his large shirt conformed to his curves and bends until it snuck its way into his pants. his rotund abdomen toppled over the loose belt…d;. dsds he sat on the  cold stone  beside the curb and  awaited the metroʼs arrival, to go somewhere he wonʼt come back from. i saw a beautiful person today.  she saw me too. her yellow eyes would glow holding her motherʼs hand. her thrifted slippers stampeded across the sidewalk while she drew +the war plan with chalk. i would read the agony on their smiling faces   with the sun in the corner and   a  house on the hill. i hope she becomes a serial killer.


i donʼt really think iʼm tired i just want to close my eyes and separate from him               (my)  (body) and rvkjjg,yubody wants to know w=if you stil want to kill yoursef becase yeah.a but eeryonʼes chopped up in the fanʼ\ i left uopen eutopiad i canʼt thing straitjacket  but rvkjjg,yubody wantsʼ a plan off the fire escape and  int om y aja r voidd d dd d      d  d                    d\ d dear assailant; i love you. thank you


iʼm on an overpass ^downtrodden. i told my mother everything, kind of. but itʼs painful ; to see the rea l   ones  leave r eality s o easily  , iʼm on a roof with the spirits of americans in my lungs and exhaled with whimpers be    caus e it hurts to see everyone driveby in memories, *my      memories and only want to  bury myself. iʼm flling [a] and when i land the bones in my brittle skin will stick straight out from the groundu like when we were kids, to throw a stick in the airt o land it perfectly uprite it did a few times. i remember.  should i stop ?


it always dies; the flower in my mind. some days itʼs an orchid ( and others a rose, and some days it stays a bit longer but indefinitely,      at a point it will collapse and leave my mind collapsed in itself crippled over rotting/ yet stale angst and grief   make for exceptional fertilisers and love will bloom again* but thereʼs always a red spec, reminding me how much i loathe my very own being,  and how dearly i want to die from every waking second, to every  waning sigh.  . ..      .


dear treefingers, why did you tell me you loved me every day? why is torture so orgasmic after days of lovely banter and blue nostalgia? are we actually two dimensional? youʼve always known the secrets to etherisation, when it gets too confusing. iʼve been weird, treefingers. iʼve been feeling weird. i started to think that everything i see is flat, and itʼs just the illusion of things changing colour and shape at the right moments. i threw away $10.73 of chinese takeout today, but i didnʼt give up so quickly, like you told me. i was thinking about going back to the beach sometime soon. maybe iʼll see you there, who knows. i doubt it. i havenʼt been in the mood for roller skating lately. it kinda makes me sad, that maybe things will change now. maybe the meds will work, and iʼll forget all about you guys. iʼve been drizzling my memories on my salads but i havenʼt been eating much. i donʼt think iʼll ever forget the smell of your laugh or the soft tide washing our salty bodies on the shore. i miss you treefingers, i hope you take care of yourself like you said you would. 


when i was younger, a girl gave me butterfly wings a week later the doctor told me the girl didn始t exist and then the butterfly wings were gone


mom, please die

i wouyldnʼt be your son.

please carry me too and you know how much you love and yp

i=live.

and you love me /me in that room. aalsdcalsdkm [which i yelled how much i donʼt give a fuck and how the glass your eyes glazed over sucked themselves back into your pupils so sad so sad sad sad.] mother iʼm so sorry„ iʼm so sorry you gave me these diseases and that you feel sorry for them too. iʼm sorry ()()() and iʼm * sorry/. itʼs just another open wound and another open mind vulnerable to the poisons our human bodies canʼt tolerate. but i made a promise to every living creature that exists, and that includes myself. we;;ll. it may, if i knew that i exist. thank you for these hurts,{hz}  this anguish in my brain thank you for these troubles because without them,

live with me mother, and i will be your deathbed until the second your world collapses, i donʼt exactly know now, but i will,  mom; i will.


some nights87 the sky is such a beautiful colour when yourʼre looking out of the spaces yr   curtain leaves between itself and the window pane ffrom a dark room some nights the sky is a pale purple knock offf brand from the dollar store it reads the minute digits{in}red led light overhea d  and asks for a short lived butterfly kiss to hold off until nex ttime we meet some nights the sky remids me that iʼm living in a dome and that iʼm ;; looking at everything iʼve ever seen in every life iʼve everr lived itʼs beauty, knowign that some distant kitten will crawl out of a wet bag with its siblings from the creek in the backyard


i hate you orsomething ;,; tricekled down white wallsss and stainnnnn ed them blaq ck ”  oh my god itʼs happenening” :( 7 years wait no, 13 yearrs iʼve been remembʼring, i mean a few months every fucking MOThER FUCKGN day i think of it and the cycle of skin overlapping the nervous condition itʼs like iʼm jumping between myself one side is me <> the other is the mirror me thatʼs exactly what i found in my closet when everybody asked me what it was my hairʼs falling out. and nobody believes me/ 


i want us. i want your body on my body; i want our puzzled heads interlocked. i want klonopin overdosed nightmares and soft ambien waking mornings[[]]]      and doors left wide open and locked anti-frozen to a halt (in) each otherʼs arms„„ adn apologies saved in kiss stained envelopes (i guess i forgot you once,and sorry if i caused you wrong) like the monk for the nun i yearn for the love youʼre not capable of.    0090983490909 but iʼll still spend yawning nights wishing i was sfsfsffsfs                     ^dying^ by your side. i want more than anything:                                               us.    i want dissonant minor chord brain stems, and birds. i want soft ambien dreams and valium-armed enemies. i want soft cats to love and itʼs true; i want your body on my body, and please believe me when i say iʼll never lie,

when it comes to the words “i love you,” because i really do.


i sometimes feel like a benzodiazepine始 lost in the vesicles left from the warr i often get the feels that, if, my mind was somewhere distante kept safe in nova, my child (halcyon, my idyllically synthetic bird)} but when 10mg of klonopin ceases in it始s timei, the desacralised will open my dear sea up for my idyllically synthetic bird and for my love that left a seearing burn on the tip of my tongue, where a train rusts and pushes those yellow and purple flowers of which i for get the names. i, the discarnate, will trust the girl parallel to myself to {}{} derealise depersonalise~~ ~~~~~ ... to forget. that i am a benzodiazepine longing for its reality in the vacuole we call the sea. i am a mother, a trainwaiting lover. with floras for my ghost and a body for my dearest ocean,


ocean,