The Decay We Dedicate to Tomorrow

When I’m anxious, when I’m worse, I get skinny

Photo by Recal Media on Unsplash

In the summer, I get skinny.

That heat comes in and honey, I’m lonely, fevered, downing bottles before they can bead — the city reeks mad in the summer. Everyone’s just a little bit. Unhinged. When I’m anxious, when I’m worse, I get skinny. I stay out late nights, in a t-shirt, and I get dark and I…