Eating an ice cream sandwich to stave off the hunger growls. Started suffering around 4ish. Stomach so irate. Epuise. Knives and stoppage and digestive tract as hard as clay. The breathing comes and goes. Lordie if I loved you a little.. Sophomore year barbaric. Hyperbaric. God you dont know The loneliness its own holiness. Tenderness of ink, tired stoic eyes A heart, a loaded heart. A muscle, thumping pumping muscle so full of life on its own One final heartbeat, who knows which number

My lungs seek gas exchange. They long to be full of air, not fluid. They plead, send out hopeful antennae. Sensitive as roaches'.

A heart. The coeur y corazon of things. Der Hertz.

The lonesomeness. The longingliness. The search for night. The search for the Dark. The moon coldly terrorizing me. How I am her.