pictures
there are pictures of me in my grandparents' house.
mimeographs of a shell on printer paper
of a boy
of a girl
of something not quite either.
it's me
i think.
i don't recognize the colors of the bedsheets
or the contours of the walls
and i'm too young to not recognize the faces
but maybe growing up is another kind of dementia
or maybe i never liked these people to begin with.
staring up at an unfamiliar ceiling,
dreaming of a cigarette kiss,
discord notifs drip-feed me stimulation in no short supply.
navel-gazing interrupted by new-grown breasts
(what did i think was going to happen?)
i wonder if this world is for me
or if it's time to move on.
freedom beckons.
page revision: 1, last edited: 11 Dec 2025 21:05