1. Skinny (fragment cycle)
i told the mirror i was happy
because the numbers went down
but the old me is still me
and maybe the real me
and i think she’s prettypretty like a bruise that won’t yellow
pretty like the space between two ribs
where the microphone used to livethey say i look happy now
i say i look like the version
they paid to seethe camera eats what the camera wants
i feed it my shoulders
my collarbones
my refusalstill
the girl in the baggy hoodie
is chewing her sleeves in the corner
watching me
watching her
watching2. Whisper Protocol (hybrid)When I was fifteen the internet taught me how to disappear inside my own voice. I learned to speak so low the words felt like breath on the back of someone else’s neck. That was the trick: make them lean in until they forget they are listening to a child who already knows how the story ends.Now the story ends in stadiums.
Now the breath is amplified until it becomes weather.I still practice the old trick in hotel mirrors.
I still let the sentence break before the verb arrives.
Because the silence after the break
is where the real song lives.[erasure field]the s t o r y
e n d s
i n s t a d i u m sthe b r e a t h
is
w e a t h e ri still
p r a c t i c e
the o l d
t r i c k3. Duplex for the Girl Who Hits Hard and SoftI hit hard when the lights go down.
Soft is the part they never film.Soft is the part they never film—
a girl counting ceiling cracks at 4 a.m.A girl counting ceiling cracks at 4 a.m.
remembers every username that wanted her dead.Remembers every username that wanted her dead
and still says thank you to the dark.Still says thank you to the dark
because the dark never asked her to smile.Because the dark never asked her to smile
she learned how to weaponize the quiet.She learned how to weaponize the quiet—
I hit hard when the lights go down
because the numbers went down
but the old me is still me
and maybe the real me
and i think she’s prettypretty like a bruise that won’t yellow
pretty like the space between two ribs
where the microphone used to livethey say i look happy now
i say i look like the version
they paid to seethe camera eats what the camera wants
i feed it my shoulders
my collarbones
my refusalstill
the girl in the baggy hoodie
is chewing her sleeves in the corner
watching me
watching her
watching2. Whisper Protocol (hybrid)When I was fifteen the internet taught me how to disappear inside my own voice. I learned to speak so low the words felt like breath on the back of someone else’s neck. That was the trick: make them lean in until they forget they are listening to a child who already knows how the story ends.Now the story ends in stadiums.
Now the breath is amplified until it becomes weather.I still practice the old trick in hotel mirrors.
I still let the sentence break before the verb arrives.
Because the silence after the break
is where the real song lives.[erasure field]the s t o r y
e n d s
i n s t a d i u m sthe b r e a t h
is
w e a t h e ri still
p r a c t i c e
the o l d
t r i c k3. Duplex for the Girl Who Hits Hard and SoftI hit hard when the lights go down.
Soft is the part they never film.Soft is the part they never film—
a girl counting ceiling cracks at 4 a.m.A girl counting ceiling cracks at 4 a.m.
remembers every username that wanted her dead.Remembers every username that wanted her dead
and still says thank you to the dark.Still says thank you to the dark
because the dark never asked her to smile.Because the dark never asked her to smile
she learned how to weaponize the quiet.She learned how to weaponize the quiet—
I hit hard when the lights go down
