Loving Strangers




it’s the funny bone of my brain that drives me insane. the things people say are like brick walls and table edges. if i shake it, it won’t go away. i can’t pin it down into a feeling. you can’t touch a ghost; everyone knows that.

if i can’t name it. if i can’t trace its shape in my mind. if i never find out how to live with it. if i have to live with it.

then i am not the person i pretend to be when everyone is watching.


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