"Hey glory child, don't you worry. I can see your skeleton so clear."

Hey glory child, I see you there. Shaking in your boots and singing in your fear. Call your phone on the late night. I recall your soul and tastes like, gardens, flowers.

Sometimes I cut myself open, just to see if it's me. Bite my lips and breath as the blood drips.

Then it's time for the evening. Pain reliever, fever reducer: and I forget all about the details of my day. Drinking champagne in your kitchen and an open bag of chips. We can't decide what to wear, so we throw everything into the living room. Piles of fur on the floor and I pretend to be a bear.

But really, we've got no where to go and no one to be. Shooting stars and no one will actually see us. The night is only dependent upon our mind. Dancing to music and forgetting words we've written.

We're just a little bit free.

pink underwear by Jewel Toned

photos by Beth Kotz