My movements robotic.

Wake up and swim in the grief of loving.

The sun is halfway melting.

Circuits fried.

I miss strawberries.

Warm strawberries smell like my favorite childhood memories.

Summer days and weed crowns months away.

Laying in the climate change.

Wonder gets dressed and I watch.

Do I still fit?

Skin is tight but soft.

I guess that’s me.

I’m wound so tight of all the things I keep together.

Soft spoken and slowly slipping to entropy

Held together with honey and healing ointment.

Battle wounds from breathing.

It’s taking over.