Moulting


Up and down Symmes Court. In and out of Chinese Satellite.

The up and in and down and out happened miles apart, but back on Symmes Court it all feels the same.

New shoes, younger hair, no debt.

But I haven’t moved. I can’t drive. My words are garbled and I can’t make anything out through the non-stop screaming that keeps me up all night, sweating.

One friend got married. The other fell out with me. The mailman dropped off my diploma.

Ugly ugly ugly.

Just put a coat on, it’s freezing.

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