sickness
#27 Self is…
Today, I changed the tires on my bike, readjusted my brakes, filed down the brake pads, sprayed alcohol mist all over myself and my bike, and eased those disc brakes
#26: Sick with Words, not Sick of Words
I think I’m tumbling out onto the page, every little piece of me feeling soft. Squishy. Resounding. This is the creep of illness. It begins with the throat, a witch’s
