i wrote this one on a train, somewhere between his family home and my new apartment. it was the first thing i made after leaving. at the time, i was clinging to my skincare routine like it was the only structure left.every step, every night. it felt both necessary and absurd, applying all the serums with the same precision i’d lost in other parts of my life.
i recorded the text so many times, but it never worked as a straight read. my voice would flatten, get too performative, start to annoy me. so i kept the failed takes and began cutting them apart: breaking sentences, repeating lines, letting words just fall apart. i slipped in a few satirical phrases, to both soften the heaviness and admit that maybe i don’t actually need to articulate it all. even if i think i should. sooo what you hear isn’t the original piece. it’s something dissected and stitched back together until it felt right in a strange way.