My Flesh Winced, In Cowardice, From Such

I Am Still So Naïve; I Know Pretty Much What I Like And Dislike; But Please, Don’t Ask Me Who I Am. A Passionate, Fragmentary Girl, Maybe?

I Am Sure There Are Things That Can't Be Cured By A Good Bath But I Can't Think Of One.

For The Few Little Successes I May Seem To Have, There Are Acres Of Misgivings And Self-doubt.

Here I Am, A Bundle Of Past Recollections And Future Dreams, Knotted Up In A Reasonably Attractive Bundle Of Flesh. I Remember What This Flesh Has Gone Through; I Dream Of What It May Go Through.

I Thought How Strange It Had Never Occurred To Me Before That I Was Only Purely Happy Until I Was Nine Years Old.