Sometimes I nursed starfish alive in jam jars of seawater and watched them grow back lost arms. On this day, this awful birthday of otherness, my rival, somebody else, I flung the starfish against a stone. Let it perish.
How frail the human heart must be - a mirrored pool of thought.
I felt the first man I slept with must be intelligent, so I could respect him.
Spiderlike, I spin mirrors, Loyal to my image.
Go out and do something. It isnโt your room thatโs a prison, itโs yourself.
I feel occasionally my skull will crack, fatigue is continuous - I only go from less exhausted to more exhausted & back again.