It’s early but my chance to sleep is lost. I dangle my legs over the side of her bed. When the floor creaks I pause like a burglar, but she doesn’t even move. There’s so much beauty in her peace. Standing at the toilet I piss above the water line. It barely makes a sound.
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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