the immunity of

ALWAYS alone with my thoughts now, i smile quietly, and know what it is to never go empty, not a damn thing passes me by. i fill it in with the worst of colours if and lost the score, terrible rotten carrots in a plastic bag with a caption and the month and the year, i dont know what it means or what ive ever meant by claiming exception, in every crawl space or weak spot, scooping my chin, im boundless, eyes like jars sealed for canning, asleep in the weak spots, the exception,. asleep in that paper mâché elbow crevice . chicken and spinach. life is a tasteless charade sometimes, no one ever really wants to know the thing, i pulled a half eaten apple from my purse. it doesnt matter. its immediate taste is like salt crumbs and lens solution. then it quickly resumes to apple. it doesnt matter. im golden, the exception. im peeled open, never emptied, glossed and sealed and filled again.