on the in between

on the in between

steel toothpick

backrooms, transition spaces

growing pains so harsh i grey out

comfort and dread in the alone ness of it all.

at what point am i not the good guy anymore? at what point am i no longer justifiable?

i dont hold on to anything solid anymore,

all ocean

all ebb and flow. all inbetween

she turns to punk to escape her bedroom eyes dread. her same same person town, the mamas, the others, even the others always had each other.

she started running away in art and music .

opening up into bowie orange county punkers to philosophical attitudes transcending the sameness around her. she gained a consciousnesses. she awoke. she can escape the mentality of everything around her through music and art.

but she longs to not escape. she longs for connection.

always grasping and expanding into the more! to reach to reach, to be invincible.

she knew she had potential, as fiona told her. she knew she was the walking embodiment of gods consciousness, as piaget told her.

all she heard apart from the art was silence, never what she wanted.