a cicada is in the vents a shrew might hide in the blanket and feed on crumbs
my cats know where their room is they know where the food is

it’s crazy this is happening to me maybe a manic state or a karmic slate but it’s the truth i feel otherworldly

cats nails clack on fake wood mine crack on technology
something is happening that i’m missing

i make choices every day but i can’t let this body sustain life
mother becomes their mother becomes their mother i don’t want to become mine
never thought i looked like her but i did the whole time