today i am not quite sure what to wear so i will slip indifference over my head. it’s ill-fitting, yet another reminder i’ve put off discarding things i’ve so overgrown. all goes black as it crosses my eyes and if there’s anything the years have taught me it’s that it still squeezes around the neck. how i love to flash it before you, so garish, so proud. sadly it’s one of the few feats afforded that brings about the instant sterilization of my space. you’re so outdated, you are wont to say, forgetting all the things that santa brings are clearly not my style. from the gallows dead limbs hang hollow of intention, tags still dangling, testament through no fault of their own that fervent hearts require touch and more than just a swathing.
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