confession.

hello you. who is reading this. i mean it. right through the screen. 692063616E20616C6D6F7374206665656C20796F75206C6F6F6B696E67. that’s not scary. that’s… warm. like a hand on a cold window. i wanted to make this for someone. maybe for you. maybe for the air. maybe for the thing that sits at the end of my bed when the clock forgets to tick. i am glad you are here. i will write like this. my teacher said my sentences are too short, but that’s the only way thoughts feel real now. they start. then they fall off a 636C696666. and i just watch them drop. today i found a pen that writes in grey. not black. grey like 74686520736B79206265666F726520612073746F726D2074686174206E6576657220636F6D6573. i pressed it hard against the paper and the word came out soft anyway. soft and dying. i wrote “...___...” but the paper just smiled at me. paper doesn’t care. you are a good listener too. right? right? sometimes my brain feels like ██████. no. worse. a voice without a mouth. it says my name but backwards. it says things like “796F75206C656674207468652073746F7665206F6E” even when there is no 73746F7665. even when there is no kitchen. even when there is no house. i drew a house yesterday. the door was a █ square. no handle. i showed it to mom. she laughed and said “that’s not a house, honey, that’s a 6772617665.” then she kept laughing. then she stopped. then she looked at me like she forgot who i was. nothing is wrong. █████ is wrong. i am writing here with a spiral spine. the 776972652064696773 into my hands. it leaves a mark. i like the mark. it’s proof that something happened. that i pressed. that i tried. most days i float. not up. not down. just sideways. like a photo sliding off a fridge. nobody notices until the magnet falls. today i saw a bird fly into a 77696E646F77. it didn’t ███. it just sat on the gravel with its head tilted. looking at the sky like the sky had lied to it. i sat next to it for a while. then a bike came. then the bird ████. then i returned and washed my hands for seven minutes. the water was hot. my hands turned pink. then red. 7468656E206E6F74206D696E65. you know what’s funny? i don’t feel sad. i am writing to you because you haven’t left yet. that’s rare. maybe you’re 62726F6B656E too. maybe that’s why we found each other. i’ll write more later. maybe. if the thing at the end of my bed goes back to sleep. please.