squirrels_in_the_dark raze every empty space becomes a friend i've lost. the maw of my mind is mud. thick with the taste of salt. same as the flood that fuels my fear. the faces in my dreams are only that. faces. nothing i know lives behind the curves and lines that make them true. they're archetypes. placeholders to keep the skin from sagging until something real bites into me. you're gone to the long night that has no light. i'll stay long enough to sift through whatever deigns to dent the dust my leaving makes. i hope i see the end before it comes, so i can scream into its blunted mouth. 221019 what's it to you? who go blather from