Crumpled

crumpled and pretending to be origami. the ways i lay unfolded and beating. everything becomes paper. your neighbors have super soakers strapped across their backs and crust in their eyes. your face against any sort of backdrop makes the backdrop irrelevant. the earth swallows mountains as i cough so hard that i almost fall asleep but don’t. i go back and forth and back and forth and again and when i wake up, my cellphone’s battery is dead.