“ still I DRINK so much in my sleep, I can’t sleep-walk a STRAIGHT LINE to the guest room, where COLLAPSE hangs so heavy inside her lungs. She speaks, and her voice TRIPS across her HEARTBEAT, each word LIMPS into the air. “WE ARE GONE” she says, and I am no mortician. I have no idea how to put makeup on the DEAD; I have no idea how to UN-ERASE, so I just puddle at the door, my face looking like a deck of FALLING CARDS, like everything’s been playing me. ”
independent multi-muse acct. ft. muses from hamilton, wicked, school of rock, and more to be added.



















