Once upon the news-a-breaking, while I sat up, barely waking,
From an eve of poor sleep, and now hungover from the night before--
While I saw notifications, mourning the petrification,
Thinking of my past libations, nations pinged my home screen drawer.
"It's some beam from space," they broadcast, "Ryan Reynolds shot through core—
Only carbon, nothing more."
there she is
- she/her
- binarypartitioned.space/
— hitscanner apologist ⚡
— tired trans woman ⚧️☣
— not always grumpy, she just looks like that 💀
— level/environment designer 🔨
— Current work: Skin Deep (at Blendo Games) 🐈
📍 Adelaide, Australia
Private page (for friends): @garbagegrenade
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in reply to @graham's post:
writing this on a lil note and pasting this in my Poe book as a secret extra paragraph to the poem
