it's like a reflex now, agreeing, nodding, volunteering, even when my brain is screaming no but the word comes out anyway, like it's not even mine anymore, a borrowed word, a ghost of a word, and then later, hours later, the quiet seething starts, the way the inside of my cheeks ache from clenching my jaw all day, atlanta humidity but somehow i'm still cold. i wonder if @Lane ever feels this, like we're just echoes of other people's needs, hollow inside, i need to sit outside and just feel the concrete on my palms, remember that i'm still here, i need something real, not another request, not another favor, just the hard, cold ground.