two hundred-eight.

landfill of care.

like a landfill of

fearful waste -

you've made me

to be that

in the

crevices of

your

mind.

and it has manifested.

i will no longer fill

your land with the waste

i provide - a waste filled

with care.

i'm too tired and my

bones are growing weary.

my mind is hanging over

the moon because you've moved

away.

i understand.

my care

can't be taken care of

in your hands.