The very first chapter is simply a blurb,
This emotion, it overwhelms me
These thoughts, they won’t leave me
When there’s so much going on we tend to do things wrong; we forget how important we are, we forget to take some time to do something for ourselves.
When you run outside crying
Living my life, feeling a little different
Momma, where have you gone
Sometimes it feels like I’m trapped in between two brick walls
From the moment I was born, lacking the pendulum of a penis, my mother taught me the integers of that singular sin. Scrotum-less and with the buds of breasts still a-nestle in my bony chest, she calculated the defiance, multiplied the charges by XX, and began her accounting. On my mother’s number line, it was impossible to be a credit minus the fragile fraction of Y.