that yearning for affirma(ffec)tion
oh I can pile it, back and forth- but I guess these days you've gotta start.
I will pet any head and tell it how wonderful you are,
every day until you're nauseous.
and still I'd believe it,
and still, tell me more
and still let me say it!!
I have tested my reserves.
What it has to amount to is
mom peering through the crack before she swung the door open.
this is a good thing, right?
these are dirty times for well-planted children.
hey, complicity.
we're all fucked up no blame.
though brain is whirring, body slow.
Some people are mutators, they loose weight and change their clothes.
I look the same since I was eight,
and my clothes still fit.
you get the idea.
this same fluffy brown newborn hair up here.
only as of last year some time, those clothes are too big.
I have four of my braids in a box in my attic.
the two on top: two years ago so I'd have less hair for car camping.
the two underneath... oh fuck, lets not go there any more.
if everything is actually patterning, then it's okay.
it's just every other february. okay?
I move slow but it still feels big.
two braids, two years, four years, three holes?
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