dorien by lieke romeijn
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The weed vine that has grown it’s whole, thick life around my body, has now grown thorns.
It has grown malicious and has pricked my pillar like legs, infusing my blood with it’s debilitating poison.
I march on as if unaffected — yet my body slowly crumbles down.
My skin becomes decrepit and decorated with decay.
Passerby’s laugh in ridicule, yet some stare with sorrow.
The dissonance between myself, and this living being that has latched to me it’s whole life, has taken it’s toll.
3ways out the window ya bissshhhhh
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