Written May 25, 2010
are the lights coming on? is the sun coming out? anything to fill my spirit. i’m plotting again. i’m afraid: they’ll look through me. they’ll know i’m lying. i just want to run away, to where they won’t know i’m failing. i know this isn’t okay. i know, okay? i can’t help— myself. anything so that people will have to ask plainly, the question i fear i will deny.