Its white stripe glows under the streetlight as it struts down the sidewalk. It must know people with sense stay indoors during flash freezes. I’m different. I enjoy the wind tickling my ribs. I laugh. This is the hour of the skunk and I’m interrupting. But we have something in common.
And I need all the reasons I can find not to hate myself. But it’s hard. Even the idea makes me shiver. Because I see loving myself like looking down on others. Riding around on a high horse. And I never want to think I’m better then the people I see on the street. The ones who have it rough. The ones who don’t fit in. The ones I see my own face in.
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