We are all infected with each other. There is no pure breed because we are all cross-contaminated mongrels whose lives seep into each others’. If you would like to be yourself – I wish you luck. It’s unlikely you will ever see your own face and even if you do it will be made up of all the hundreds of thousands of faces your own eyes have seen.
You will fill yourself up with other people until you are balancing bodies stacked above your head like a twisted family tree. Your branches will extend beyond your own limbs.
I am too tired to decipher who belongs to my family tree. My body second guesses itself and my sight shows me different things to what my ears are hearing; I am out of sync. I hate that insecurity can win over truth. I attempt to not be afraid but attempting is the end. Honestly, let’s just fit. Our shapes match. I’m exhausted by my uncertainty and by my choice. I have exhausted my options.
Aside from superstition I will confess I was third time lucky. Truly, I have offered you my faith. Don’t tell me you are too holy for love. No-one can say this without lying and thou shall not lie. I know, I know. How can I expect you to decline earnest gestures? I did think you had eyes though.
Look, I am most honest when least grounded. Can you rattle this out for me all the time please? Then you will know how to stay on the spot. And we can all mark time.
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