Freewrite/12/20/25

 Sister told me to write down the times when the changling comes.

She said I always forget, block it from my memory.

I can't help it.

Everything goes black.

And for a minute I don't believe it myself

like I am living in borrowed skin.

Isn't that sad, I say to the mirror, looking in my own eyes.

Yes, I tell my own self so I wont forget.

And Im still a little bit pretty

So maybe it's not too late.

higher cheekbones

straight teeth

green eyes

a little bit insatible

I want to see conservatories and churches

go to places where I don't understand 

and have to listen closely at the deeper meaning of everything

I think that is the beginning of closeness 

humility is the gateway I suspect

like you have to be laid bare, a bit in need

and then it rushes in...

I once became obsessed with vulnerability.

I had never tried it before.

The boys at the bar said it was a kink.

But its not like that,

not to me me.

It's  a fascination of letting go with someone

Shedding that borrowed skin

glowing a little bit...because its finally-safe-enough

I wonder how I would feel

How I would taste

I imagine I would move slow like honey and be so grateful to feel everything

There would be willows and rivers I'm certain.

You see how I lose myself?

This is why my sister tells me to write things down.

I just received the all clear

that it was safe in the town.

I am still standing at the rectangle cave entrance

looking at the sky...still suspicious I might see fire and black wings

On second though, I'll take my borrowed skin with me, just incase.

I'd like to say, "you never know".  

But I know.