sometimes all i want is for the world to glaze over,
for all of the noise to funnel into a bass hum, for all of the hectic shapes and bodies to become forms
that bleed into each other like ink, like reeds in the sea,
flowing together.
sometimes all i want is black and nothing and nothing and nothing and nothing
sometimes i wish my eyes were hazy marbles that saw the world like a giant blur and my fingertips would feel nothing
but fuzz
and my eardrums would vibrate softly with statif all day and my
tongue would fall numbly in the bed of my mouth,
dumb as a pillowcase, or a stone, or a ball of yarn.
and my heart would burst with emptiness.
and my stomach would digest itself.
and my brain would not tick, tick, tick, tick.