Literature
It's Getting Worse
Her stupidity is becoming stronger, illuminating her blindness during youth Normal conversations are frequently dipped in unfathomable confusion I taste the disappearance of a mother's brain function every day, Excitement and dread coalescing behind my aching eyes A slow death coils around distant limbs, red and asexual The future has so many blurry faces, perfidious and fervent This place is a bustling graveyard, littered and depressing If the image of my body is swallowed by a diminishing ganzhi, I will Fill my heart with departure, send a battalion of orange flares to the sky, Organize my belongings like I'm creating time capsules, and leave this Rancor-drenched town, its people bolstering my dwindling gratitude I do not want to sink deeper into this ground I will not watch another soul fade away