baby sitting back in the corner.

twistedy twisted mess.

i'm back at the tender age of 15, shy and powerless, submissive and ready to be ruled over. as if this city has stripped me of all my strength and confidence, i'm letting others take over and losing myself in it all.

sickness follows. cramps and infections and my body screaming for me to stop, to regain control, to let it breathe again. calmly. instead, i keep going at this pace, at this intensity, losing myself in more drama and tension and hysteria. except i no longer remember how to fight and how to win, and so i just splash around like a fish outside the water, hoping it will soon end and i will return to the ways in which i only recently lived.

the peonies - my wedding flowers - sit in front of me, smiling, and emphasizing the absurdity of it all. the hypocrisy of my life here, "all the gossip, and lies and hurt", "the effort of having to hide and lie and cheat. it's exhausting. no wonder you've got no script. you're too busy inventing your own life".

i've become my own biggest fear. disgusting and deceiving and .... wrong. yet, although i know the wrongness of it all, i keep at it.



and i'm empty.