i asked her, does it look the same? she gave me that funny look she gets whenever i say or do something a little dim it's a mirror image for a reason she said
in the mirror i see muscles, and strength hips a little too wide and fleshy but still muscular, strength all the way down
but when i reflect on myself, no mirror necessary it is never the same
i don't feel as strong as i could don't look as sharp and sturdy as i could those fleshy sides, too soft for a battle-hardened brain and turbulent thoughts
i need angles, i need straight lines but there's nothing straight about me and that's half the problem
and the other half is that i hate the softness that lingers but everybody else loves it and i don't want to be warm and able to be cuddled
i want hard edges and nimble, spindly fingers; when i play my chords i want my bones to tap the strings
and when sadness sheathes itself within me i want eyes as dry as my eczema-bitten hands
it's been a while, huh? hey, guys, how are ya? my 2018 has been a rollercoaster already i finally got an appointment with a clinic i've been emailing for three months, and my granddad died