drag
I write this on the floor, facing down, stomach on the ground. I’ve been in this position before, we all have. It’s the first step to something, not that we know, we are just babies shitting in our diapers. Crawling is the stance that tells parents, “I know what I’m doing. I am an expert,” but do we really know what we’re doing? ever? My bones start to ache from being pressed into the carpet, they are painfully telling me to move. So, I start to crawl, the carpet rubbing against my forearm creating a deep red rash, but what exactly am I moving towards? I’m crawling to what every baby needs, their mother, specifically their bosoms. Their mouths foaming for that sweet milk, except I am alone, I am an adult now. I get off the floor.
Hi, I wrote this while actually on the floor, I didn’t crawl, but you don’t need to know that. I wrote this because it’s my birthday and I’m honestly petrified of getting older. I’m only 20, but it feels like I really have to be “an adult” now — whatever that means — I hope you enjoyed reading this.
Thank you for reading… If you would like to support this mess, buy me a cup of coffee.
