Fluids

by May Leitz

I’m twenty-nine. My life is basically over,

But I always remember, in the back of my mind, that whoever someone pretends to be is who they are.

Mostly when I think of myself, I see this big abyss where my past used to be.

I learn that if you smoke enough DMT, you can break through to a dimension of wizards and elf people that teach how to control reality.

I hate Oklahoma.

“I just don’t want to die in Oklahoma.”

The idea of someone knowing all of me is something I fear deeply.

I could save her from sobriety.

I am my own love of my life.