I talk to myself,
no more, no less,
than anybody else
I’m sure.
I apply makeup
in the morning
for the people
in my imagination.
In regards to my first
confession, this probably
makes less sense.
What I mean is,
without it I’m invisible
to all things in
fantasy and reality;
so, I wear mascara
in case I bump
into a daydream
or a colleague.
When I’m nervous
I enjoy the taste
and texture
of my own skin.
I chew my nails
and their messy,
unmade beds
to the quick.
I grip my shoulders,
wrists and arms
to remind myself
I am real;
an open book
with a pulse,
intimidated by hands
with the intention
to close me.
I linger too long
in peoples’ hallways,
on the stairs
and in the dark corners
of my memories,
and I travel through
happiness
like a bullet train
past rolling hills
and the…
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Thank you ☺️
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I’m mad for your words
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Ahh thank you 💛💛💛 it means so much for you to say that x
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