I was entirely situational, rootless, my inominate children slipped deeper into the ravine. In the presence of others I found no solace, only shame. I wore the most appalling masks. Masks fashioned of flesh and bone. Almost human but always absent some essential element. I retired a leper. I scrapped my progeny from the dirt and judged them each in turn useless. I hated myself(s). My actions and the weakness that fosters emulation.
I can’t speak freely for fear of inconveniencing someone. I am afraid of confrontation, it requires a coherence that I do not, in the moment, possess. I speak in contradictions. In placating truths. I speak anarchronistically, the present being entirely too intimate. I am not fine. I am not wise. Forgive this fiend’s tongue. Forgive my invalidations. Reflected in societies’ eyes my failures grow exponentially. I can’t accommodate everyone, it will destroy me.