emaginary
The trailer I walk by is broken and scarred; the metal has corroded and covered itself in the dry crusted blood given by the soft wind with the sharp whisper. "bleed" it says. "die" it says. "those who fell within you live here no more." her words, though soft, break the skin. then the rains...
My mouth is dry and my throat is empty of all liquid. like this all familiar sensation that lines the cracks of my teeth and the stretches of my throat; it exists in my brain. the need to feel the words spill from the stretches of my fingertips and the tips of my tongue. like water down the throat, I write, I speak, I am. I drink