get out.

everything in me wants to say get out, get out, get out.

empty me to a dull grey drudge, no more recollection of laughter, or feeling perfection, nor the forgetting of myself.

(forgetting myself for days was the most beautiful way to fill my mind.)

i am full, now, of thoughts of myself. aware, of bruises at every move and word and thought and phantom memory of ohhhhhhhhhhhhhh, you near.

ohh, get it out.