it exists in my head in some way that i'm trying to get out i lied on my story
a little bit because i'm mostly feeling it and thinking about it. feeling
something deeply doesn't necessitate any kind of deep relevance or whatever
but the thinking is useful
It's
dusk
in a snowy forest and I'm playing with a fox.
It bites my wrist but there is only a dull ache.
I feel that it wants to say sorry but can't. I die.