what?
what is this place?
where am I?
how did i get here?
contained,
pressed into this skull,
like infinity in a jar;
it never feels natural,
like having one shoe
smaller than the other;
there’s something wrong,
like the bit being pulled
to hard to the right
and we’re moving in circles
until the ride is done
and the bridle is removed.
love love love this one
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