• i can feel my spine poking through. the sharp peaks that stretch my skin. and the yellow burn marks gnawing away at my stomach. my pulsating thorax is staggering to keep up. skipping beats just to make time. but when i'm lying in this filth, i think back. remember when i was soft. when i was snow. and then i don't feel so worn. because i was made to rise. i am a phoenix. that's all. sometimes i forget, but it's wonderful when i remember. and in the bathroom is where i want you against the grafiti wall we know no law at all just to see you body in a place so tacky there's no better irony in my own deprevity

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