39944276-0c53-4486-8c88-5dcbca75e708by Jessica Hopkins01 Jun 2018

This spot of light
becomes a formless blur, as my lashes rest:

something concrete
something real -
but nothing is.

i am not who i want to be.
This girl

she dances seductively in her new lace bra

she considers life to be directed by values

— her worth spreads its liquid self onto each part of this desired identity

each part just as distant, separate.

she knows no one, for there is no such thing. But she wakes

each day. She stifles her scream -

her scream of exstatic desperation.