Paranoia

The joys of growing extra eyes

Far too much thinking. Thinking about the lift of a brow, the twist of a lip, the twinkle(or lack thereof) in an eye. How each person who says they love me is just in it for what piece of me they can tear away, wrap in foil and hideaway in the cupboard.

I hear whispers and plots where logical states there are none. My possessions move unbidden when I am away. I see…

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Harshy

Harshy

Wrote in my youth for expression, Writing now for sanity. Read in my youth for escape, Reading now for grounding.