in my head is a button that says play it’s pressed over and over as though it’s not working but it works and the button masher knows that on some level they press it more frantically it’s the same patterns sameness amplified when it hits it’s like a blackout my sight merges with my unconscious imagining, colors flash near blackout would be more correct everything is in slow motion medication taken just a little over the limit it stopped helping only slows cognition impairs coordination concentration, capacity for memory fake sleep this place i enter makes me drop things and fall like I shouldn’t be here or i’ve never walked before i shouldn’t be anywhere really eyes roll back and world goes upside down as i faint and fall brace for impact otherwise i can only sit and stare stare at blankness garbled textscrolling incoherence the gag reel everything takes too long the constant dripping of guilt and shame on my head an ickiness memories of how they made me feel it drips on my head over and overas the button masher pressesdrip drip drip drip drip drip drip[from spatium negativum ep get lossless, high fidelity audio at mirlo.space/msxxan.]

a door is opening in my head an unconscious awareness some things are nice here i’ve had “not a real g*rl” pounded into my skull so many times in the liminal space between the unreal and blurred out world but there’s a woman here womanhood verified by pain by being driven, forced and pushed into tighter and tighter spaces broken glass devices of impalement things that don’t fit a device like an iron maiden that I don’t know is there constricting more and more my airflow i pretend it’s fine be polite, smile, stay positive no feeling in my stupor of dumbness self-inflicted tragedy floating now in my own absence my own empty space some clarity in the cognition slowdown in the eye of the storm of panic and paranoia there’s a very out of place calm that’s there just to f**k with me words and characters insert into each other like the keyboard’s broken, but it’s me check over and over things that don’t need to be checked that’s all i can do for today [from spatium negativum ep get lossless, high fidelity audio at mirlo.space/msxxan.]

she wears a tapestry of discarded plastic shopping bags they’ve melted together covered in a permanent greasy film they’re her angel wings today she will soar through car exhaust aromatic hydrocarbons toxic air thick with particulate matter wings bonded in filth melted onto skin discoloring from the air exposure it’s her special day a divination ceremony visiting adjudicators of a quiet genocide she’s happy to get to talk to someone it’s her home, a family something disconcerting catches in her sidelong view her own reflection on a phone that doesn’t work has no value the corroded capacitive layer is used as a mirror her makeup is poisonous she forgot to put it on today though now she squeezes a locket very tightly it contains something rotted and forgotten she wishes herself good luck

[lossless audio at open.audio/@msxxan]