i am burning from the inside out. maybe outside in if i thought about it long enough but i don’t much care to. from the darkest depths, my stomach shrivels hot, pink once, dyed an artificial brown the color of baby shit. emulsified baby-shit-brown as the color wheel turns, from the sticky hot blood, deep red, that trickles from unidentified ulcers, to the stomach acid, a slick lime green that...
i’ve memorized the best angles in the bathroom mirror from which to see how badly i’ve disintegrated. i truly do go from sixty to zero. i am bitter, cold. i was halfhearted a year ago but i can no longer calculate the fraction of what’s left. i watch in the mirror, my head cocked over my shoulder, so as to see my shoulderblade, now covered in a layer of fat i can’t quite...