This, coming from a confused female.
Only on the outside. I talk to an
imaginary friend. He was my guide and
my fake brother when I was little.
We played on the swings a lot, chasing
the praying manti who congregated on
the wooden shed walls and back fence
where I grew up. Buffering a marsh.
Also friends: snakes, snake skins,
opossum trasheaters. I'd take you
all to Milford. Either my neighbors
are playing hide and seek, having a
fight or getting kinky. Maybe I do
hate something. This is all garbage
you know. I'm spewing stuck mud.
I grew up in a marsh.
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