A haunting this real is to walk with lost ghosts of 'you'.

You leave yourself in many minds and city corners and on the edge of beds in institutions. A shimmer or shard, sharp edges sit and fill spaces that you were once in. The body institutionalised is the body itself.

What could be more haunting than the above? Death itself? It's like we pick ourselves up, a mirror and try to reflect the sun, but somehow we are all dropped from a great height, to leave bits of us scattered across the floor. Haunting texts fragmented and left bleeding
ratgrrrl