my dear neurosurgeon failed to find my eyes, he only looked at my mouth, my left jaw, whine a little, and gave me analgesic - i f
orgot what's the na me - that replaced my f ace with the mo on. it's moon face. still
present until this very moment just because my body wants to remember. i maintain my diet like there's no tomorrow but actually there is & boy did it grace my stomach with a
crying gift, an angel's tears, an angel lives near the volcano everything turns sour.
i wasn't hurting at that time.
now i am. turning not only my face to the moon, my whole body is the moon, even my fingers are the moon but they are the crater part so when i touch a boy he
disappears - when i touch a girl i disappear. i've never wanted to be a boy,
only some nights i am so fragile i become masculine. it's not that i've never felt feminine, i do, every time
i am catcalled i do, every time my father kisses me like a jewel i do, every time my brother treats me like a marionette i do, every time i'm seen as angry i swear i do.
my mother is angry all the time but that doesn't do anything about her womanhood - her husband still sees her as a good, and yes, the eyes of a man are like the sun, nothing at all like mine. my eyes are the only part of me that is not the moon, that is pluto.
i've been to so many doctors i am very sure it's not the minds nor the medicines.
it's funny that
my dear neurosurgeon didn't even graze my skin - the only time a knife tore my epidermis open