“I call for help, and no one hears me except those monsters under my bed.”
“The yolk plops to the sidewalk. This happens with a second egg and then a third, and I want to say damn it and go home, but I am not a person who gives up on herself, not anymore. “
It became a kind of performance art piece, bleeding onto other people’s beds. They were never appreciative of her art.
“I dance around it, as we always dance around it, not wanting to make it a big deal, but wanting to make it maybe just big enough that maybe they’ll be able to help.”
word by Kate Shaw colour by Joe Hengst It has been several days since I’ve…