Souled Out
It is admittedly soul-boggling, the fact that I have bones, a full skeleton’s worth, a thing I’ve come to know only by viewing other disembodiments. How else would I know that I am a biologically sophisticated vertebrate?
Bones and red jellies. I’ve been living on beef, red wine, and chocolate for far too long. I’ve been in love so many times that I have learned love does not exist. I no longer believe in love. So here I am.
Wishing I were wrong. Reflexive. Not quite suicidal, but sad, not far from that meaning, that je ne sais quoi, a thing she once possessed, now all my own.
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