strung

I hung strung like a dead rotting rabbit ready for the stew pot.

lid

take the top of the small goat head and go ahead and get fed by removing the lid to reveal that which is hid... den in the chicken coop where the goats are fed

web

spinning spinning like a spider dangling from her assward spinnerets... she decends and frets about the journey down down to the solid ground

... mirror

who's the fairest?

i was told i need to own it. to love it. embrace it.

don't i already do that? do boys just say that to every girl they see because they think we are all so lacking in self esteem and self love?

why do other girls feel the need to constantly tell me i'm hot and not fat?

am i the only one who looks in the mirror and LIKES what they see?

...

physical appearance pisses me off and is a total waste of time and space. ugh.

mosaic

a grand masterpiece of shattered shards of sharpened shame splattered against the shifting backdrop of senility stealthy sleep

... stitch

i wish that my heart needed to be sewn back together. i see all of these people walking around with the stitches still visible through their chests. deeply wounded. still recovering... well. maybe not wanting to recover.

my heart just seems so boring in comparison.