what a strange fellow he is who wakes up some days feeling lovely have you seen him? maybe not that’s okay i have and he’s seen me he’s rosy he’s kind he’s gentle and sweet he’s made not of molecules not of atoms but of calm of sureness and of subtle joy what an odd boy he is who shakes himself awake some days he who grumbles in the mirror thinks he’s less than he is knows all he can’t and will never be all he wants to be have you met him? probably i know he’s there he knows i’m here mine is the shoulder he’s cried on mine is the pillow he’s screamed into mine is the body he’s hated he’s rude he’s upset he can’t agree with himself or anyone and what a boring character he is who wakes up to the beep of his alarm tired, dull, grey he who looks at himself in the mirror sees the ghost of a fellow a rosy fellow and the shadow of a boy an upset boy he’s not sure who they are have you talked with him? most likely but he doesn’t remember your conversation the day the shallow routine to him it’s all the same we don’t know who it’ll be tomorrow when the grip of sleep lets us go but we know one of us will wake up
