"fetch the bolt cutters"
23 years old
i wish to build a dollhouse of memories, faint child laughter in the background. collecting doll parts, ripped out hearts, angel wings and soot-smitten leaves. every room a new pain; here under the attic trauma lies high, it fills the static w throat-less screams. the living room piled high w unwritten books, blank canvas to spite. a bedroom where no sleep is to be had. the kitchen full of rotten food; you go hungry chewing on finger nails, blue lips and heavy eyelids.