I don’t broadcast every high & I don’t hide every low. I’m trying to live. I’m not trying to convince the world I have life.
And when I awoke I bore its brand
on my face, a rash of empty white stars,
a snappishness in my lashless eyes.
Now I was nobody’s child. I’d seen
the blackness at the edge of the sky
—Linda France, ”Like a Phoenix,” The Toast of the Kit-Kat Club
The Weeknd | Often
Rachel, certified pessimist & hypochondriacal student of medicine, sometimes I write.