Profile

i remember him as a hole that i could crawl inside. while the seeds others planted into my skin unfurled one by one, he was a small, quiet space where i could itch at sprouts. where i could starve them of all light. if i close my eyes, i can still hear the sound of him around me, all humming and churning and a distant heartbeat that grows closer, slowly closer. the only problem is that now i am larger. the only problem is that now i know how it feels to have his roots crawl into those loosened pores where life once conspired to begin and i know that he's stretching them out, one by one. one by one.