• back

i am convinced that behind the panels in my wall and beneath the tiles of my floor lives something lives.

something much larger and complex than me, a wall of connecting tissues and flesh.

if i were to take a crowbar and slip it between the cracks in the wall and peel it back, i expect a pink wall of exposed meat, alike to a construction of combined scraps of meat leftover from a butcher.

i wish that i could place what exactly what has lead me to thinking this way, but i am not able to.

in fact, i cannot remember that much of the past anymore these days.

i know the things that i know now and that is good enough for me.

the smell reeks from the dampest corners in the back of closets that i cannot reach or see

it reminds me of raw meat, fish maybe.

like a harbor on a hot day.

yeah, it could be that. it must be.