10/23/23

Voice cleft this way and that, I am my voice, and I am scattered. A river of green slime runs off the cliff face of my nasal cavity to the caverns below – pressure buildup 1000 bars it’s the bottom of the Mariana and you’re on top  and I’m all filled up. Drowning in a pool of gunk that splays the legs of my song in every direction. The notes in breaks surround like the whispers of people who aren’t there. Desperate pleas for my name and I am my voice but they have more voice when I am like this : all stuffed up, all stuck…