And then it hit me, suddenly, like something unpoetic and terribly real and humiliating. I haven't lost my marbles, my senses are not screwed - i'm just: not able to understand at first. I wasn't born this way. My core self, my chronically accessible thought and behavioural tendecies have not allowed for me to operate within its framework. So it catches me, my blindspot, my beautiful thing, my desire. Takes me hostage and terrorises me, makes me offer up my freedom, then lets me be ... just the ghost of my absence. Gone. Left to my own painful re:creation.
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