My internal organs are all black. My intestines have knotted themselves up, my, my liver has slid all the way next to my lungs. They’ve moved themselves around in a puzzle gone wrong, and I can only hope it rights itself while I sleep.
Nothing will come of nothing.
I need to be more patient with people. More patent. Shiny leather, copyright. Be kinder, like children. Wordplay across nations.
“Sometimes I take things too seriously.”
Hereon in, I write. (Wrote I.)
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