Everyone is getting married and shitting babies out and I’m walking to the waterfall in colorado. Ready to sacrifice my skin to the sun and all it’s glory, good god, I’m looking at your wedding photos wondering if your still worried. My mother won’t answer her phone when I call and since I’ve been sleepin on a sofa for two years, my spine hurts unless it’s crooked. My father order and my lady chaos. The grand plan is to hang from my family tree as the one who surrenders to the agony. There isn’t much to do in this place but test the limits of your own suffering. Watch your skin prune and groove to the rhythm of the rattlesnakes move, spitting venom at the junkyard dogs. Like the half eaten cat in your front yard, staring straight up all blue eyed at the cloudy sky. Saying to yourself “I am too alive in contrast, I can’t do this shit” scoopin up it’s dead body and hastily covering it with earth.