A home is people but a home is also things. Those things speak to people, to memories, to experiences. Those things hold value. Textures conjure feelings. Colors conjure smells.

Every person I encounter I must love and devour. My destruction reaches the most innocent of bystanders before they can realize and run away. I spread myself to touch everything I can’t, everything I shouldn’t, because I’m absent and empty and I’ve never stood in one place long enough to determine where I am.


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