Zap
Tattered mind.
Numb stuff in my teeth, and nails.
The sacrifice melted me.
When you jolt into yourself.
You assume brain fog will jump out at you as an apparition.
It’s really just swiping off rust with a puzzle underneath that I’m too tired to solve.
Zap.
You slip down the rope you were climbing like a sleepy caterpillar.
Plucking away at strands.
Tattered.
You go back inward like there’s fresh baked bread inside.
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