something like that

sometimes I am both. 

sometimes I am one. 

today, with make-up and jewelry, I cut out the shapes and patterns 

to become feminine.

the passage of time

my aunt passed away today. 

I never go to know her, and somehow that makes it worse.

she gave me this hand-made doll when I was born. There's a note, saying that I would grow up to look like her.

I took it as a compliment. 

Still do. 

She wears a bonnet, carries a basket of strawberries. 

She is a relic from another era. 

... I wish my aunt and I had talked together. 

sitting pretty

I am not like you.

too difficult sometimes to disguise myself as normal.

let me instead drink wine and fight the system. 

let me lounge in my undergarments and bathe in flour.

helps, somehow.

but my voice cracks when I try to explain.

powder

caked. 

in insanity. 

I am an agent of chaos. 

black-room child

black and blue

..funny what the light catches.

What it hides.