green apples and green peppers see me approaching, hovering over them deliberating on their worthiness only to watch their red counterparts be selected. i imagine their little hearts breaking as it happens time and time again, they don’t understand why they aren’t picked. i won’t accept that the produce doesn’t have a consciousness, everything does.…

i dream about a forest where the ground doesn’t quite hold and pinecones whisper. it’s not broken here, but the reading of it slips. the moon hangs wrong and the stars keep splitting. daytime never quite comes here. sometimes i don’t notice, sometimes i do, then i forget what i felt like i always do.…

i would like to reincarnate without being aware of it, i envy those in a state of oblivion, i struggle to comprehend hell, and heaven terrifies me. the idea of heaven brought me comfort up until i was around 7. then the concept of infinite life, even the most pleasurable of lives alongside the Holy…