A SMALL LIST OF THINGS I WOULD USUALLY HIDEwhy do we hide under blankets why do we hide our feelings why do we hide easter eggs hiding is the pragmatic response to fear of losing something i hide a 73% seventy-three percent of the time we are not what we project ourselves to be seventy-three percent is the amount of time i spend trying to retain consciousness seventy-three percent of men talk down to me when talking politics in that 73% i also include hiding - pretending to like eric clapton - imagining having a threesome in which i didn’t feel insecure or "worse than the other person” - not feeling part of a generation - the dream that who we were on mdma was the real self - our relationship having network connectivity problems - fake orgasms - and every time i have felt unnecessarily exposed i am afraid of the time spent in a station, right before a train approaches and it feels like the air it carries is going to hit you in the face i always stand close to the platform because i want to find out how much of it i can feel i am afraid of the insides of a plant it takes a much larger amount of time to kill a plant than to kill yourself every cell in a plant is independent to its other cells every cell in a plant is unaware of your existence every cell in a plant dies alone desynchronised with its co-cells but every cell in my body will die holding hands i am afraid of babies i am afraid of babies feeling sad when they realise that at one time nothing will be new or astounding or special i am afraid of not covering their osmotic heads with bubblewrap so they can’t be penetrated with hurt i am afraid you will think this is stupid i am afraid that people can have opinions on other people when they will never live inside another human being’s head ihide my fear of walking home alone at night and my nostalgia for what never existed most of all i hide that i don’t want to be thrown away I AM SEVERAL WOMENmy blood is sin entering the world my blood is a ravenous animal leashed inside me my blood is a living painting my blood is a city with no men in it my blood is uninhibited abandon and hormonal cattiness my blood is victory my blood is a thousand witches chanting around a pink fire my blood is like spitting in someone else’s mouth my blood is what you are afraid of my blood is not made of glitter my blood is made of every time i have been raped and every woman i have ever met it makes me daring it makes me solid it makes me strong my blood is the only real thing i am my blood is an ocean you don’t tell the ocean to behave YOU MADE MY CHEST FEEL LIKE AN EMPTY CAR PARKwe drive apologetically while i place myself in the center of a foreign place. this place speaks. its voice offers no consecration. it says many things about nothing. it says: “this feels warm in the way setting things on fire feels warm”. it says: “i am so scared to lose you i can’t feel your body next to my body”. it says: “i no longer feel like a poem. i can’t live inside you forever”. it repeats everything i always say in a way you’ve never heard before. i tried to push through the waters of a lake instead i ended up here. you were the sky before the sky was a sky of unglued ghosts. i am looking at your body reflecting the moon. i am recording this. i am thinking: “i exist i exist i exist”. i am thinking: “say something i will remember”. there are two hundred dogs dying right now. our hands have engaged in the most vulnerable connection. everything is happening so much. we are two tsunamis of nostalgia splash-fighting each other with baby-sized dinosaur arms. we are an abandoned fair, left untouched for five years, its lights still painfully lit. we can't be together lest we eat each other. we wish for painless separation, for our fingers merging with the sky in the middle of a rainstorm with thunder, and for the way we could sleep before we knew things about each other. i will draw new eye sockets on your face. staring at me will feel infinite. ✱✱✱ 
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