Photography by Chanel Irvine
my big
toenail
was ripped (off)
but i don’t know that
yet. (it feels fine)
my blundstone still
covers/protects/supports
everything ankle down;
i don’t have to
worry about that
right now.
the music I just
escaped — continues on
in my head,
but with
a different rhythm
I guess that’s why
I left.
it doesn’t matter that tomorrow will be
rough
achingly serious thoughts tie-dyed with
confused pain in places
i know (I KNOW) have heeled.
i can sleep between now, and then.
chilled-clip-cloppingly stiff i keep passing houses asleep for hours
children who will grow up to be (me?)
(this?)
good luck.
for a second, amid the furious, i wish i didn’t smell like now; like your second-hand smoke.
i wish our kettle wasn’t broken.
BUT upon it all; here is my
smile
my
laugh
(my mum’s
eyebrows, but that’s not important now)
and until forever
i will have
all
these things.
