I don’t even have space for you in my memory.
My head is stuffed like turkey with fallacies of union between what is native and what has filled the void.
Who I have become is a large percentage of natural flavors being added to a mix that once was remotely nourishing.
My heart is stale around holidays and lovers and children. How can I be?
I want to scream and yell and cry- nothing is authentic. My feelings are freeze dried, cried, sealed.
Savored or saved?