The politics of being raw

For someone who claims to like to think a lot, you didn't this time. Or if you did, if you were preparing for this for a long time, you certainly didn't realize it. You thought you were in it, going with the flow, or at least a flow. And whose if not your own? No one has imposed a flow on you, impossible.

Finally, despite the roles, you realize you are not an actor in all of this, there is no method. There is no protection, no one standing in front of you. Alone for once. Undone, tired of being done, raw, tired of serving yourself up as a prepared dish. Visceral - how does it feel to be ready to be coarse and base? You flip smooth off and get close to jagged.

Despite how good THAT feels, you acknowledge a loss. No tears fall though, why would they? The sadness, it simply seeps out of your skin. Not all bad though, it is possible now to follow your trail. We will find you.