My bathroom falls, like walls bleeding poetry of forlorn wrists. The process of cleansing my body is like knotting my untamed hair into a Chinese Bun. The tools twist and become a shapeshifter. The water bath suddenly acts as an agent. chemical reaction running through my body. My bathtub is a war-like place, and I sit and smirk on my scars often, it’s more than a cleansing outside perhaps. I mingle wild, esoteric tears with that of hot-water to see the cracks running like a wild-fire. My body dissolving into pieces of nothingness. Hollow formations defining the next move, the next moment…here. I plunge the scrubber into my mouth, vomiting and rubbing the rims. The broken mansions, the eerie space. Rinse & rinse till i rinse more and more.

I sew a thread to my body, marking my periphery. It’s a process of insanity clicking, body shrinking. My breast smells…