You are a hand holding a hand beneath itself.

You are a thought comforting a thought.

A trembling, sweet, pink lower lip.

All women contain some shit, but it comes from being with ignorant men.

And it eats you.

‍

You dream of psychoses, pop songs, and girls with lip gloss.

The princess on the white horse.

Beautiful, wet, and sticky. A foreign country.

Somebody in a dream tells you:

"Heterosexuality is a trauma response.”

And you believe it.