103 - April 12 2024 - about the future

I’m writing about a future
some time
very soon from now
everything I imagined about my world
will be proven wrong
every friend is a wooden doll with an enemy inside it
every enemy contains a friend
and inside of those
roles flip again
and again they flip
until the doll is minuscule
it feels like a fleck of sand
a piece of grit I roll on my palm
and flick back onto the beach
friendships and enemyships are nothings
I am my own worst friend and best enemy
and I make myself into a nothing in the process
I get to be as empty as space
I get to be everything I want and don’t want
all at once
I twist myself open
and all the treasures inside me spill out
and they roll around on the floor
they roll under the couch
you have to kneel down
you have to prostrate yourself
you have to peer into the dark to find pieces of me
you have to reach your hand under the sofa
and try and grasp at what I’m saying here