There is a girl inside me
in my stomach
she is me.
She sits and stares at a screen
an old dusty comp from the nineties.
It has a black backdrop
and weird yellow writing.
I hide around the corner
in a small pink hallway
trying to get a peek
of that screen.
She does not look at me
only the screen.
I want to know what is on that screen!
It holds everything about me
I need to succeed
but my body is a place foreign to me
and poking around the corner,
this me is not ready.
The girl at screen is dignified
people probably take her seriously
(when not staring at a screen).
I imagine her to be one of those people we all see:
walking around tall drinking coffee.
walking about town
on their way somewhere
they always know where they are going
and what they are doing is important
important and dignified and caffeinated
than what everyone else is doing.
They don't care to stare
at the shoes
on a bus
they are very busy
time is very valuable
and they love coffee.
Paintbrush plump with watercolor
smudged ink on a wet piece of paper
from a fingertip.
Gravity has made this possible
It has formed an irregular
To one side
it is more violent.
The rest is rimmed with ease. A ring of
looking on the inside
a nauseating color.
it gets grainy and pixelated
The middle (as big as halves of two fingers)
flesh tinged yellow.
It tries to be flesh but it is not
this yellow means
half deep into my smoking habit
I began to braid
it lasts loose-tight.
youthy at first
I thought I was good with
secured locks safe
(ex-roommate seeing me in a black and white picture of a mid woman some-park in Paris)
coiled fur were to unfurl
wind widdle one
more obsessed than before
scared flurry alone talking exposed
where to go
for at least a couple hours
up and down
loose to tight
murky murky sea of drenched clenched
taps me into instructions
on how to: disappear
"I want to touch your boring spongy organ."
"why?" I say. "That's gross
"It's smooth and nice."
"How do you know?"
"Everyone has a smooth boring spongy organ at some point, you're in your prime."
"Stop thinking about smoothness. I wish I didn't have a smooth boring spongy organ. Stop staring!"
"It's just so beige."
"Put away your big eyes or I'll get out out my knife."
"Okay, but i'll exchange my eyes for something else."
(laughter) "what is that? It looks like a pink kaleidoscope!"
"Why don't you get closer and look at the shapes and colors?"
"Alright, those red dots are real pretty. I've never seen those before."
"Can I touch your boring spongy organ now?"
"Yes, if I can play with your kaleidoscope."
(motions yes and spongy organ girl gets closer)
It smells weird, I don't think I want to do this anymore."