i smell
and i’m so tired of being around myself, but it feels so good to be in my own company 
and i know someday that’ll fade, so i must keep this momentum going— or, lack of momentum going 
.
and the way i see myself in this moment isn’t nice at all 
rather it’s a macabre, see through, polyester facade of circles, all with varying color that seek only to defile me into my absolute nakedness 
and tho i wish i could say otherwise, i help fuel it 
.
my destruction 
my isolation 
i bask in the feces of...