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21 nov 2018, Second Shot

Latte.


Every day I'm building

a museum of me.

Here lay

my deepest fears since I was 5:

that all my teeth will fall off

and all my friends will leave me.

Take a selfie with

the shame of my first failed exam

or of that moment I knew that it wasn't a date after all.

Gather around

a guide telling you about

the way I pack for a journey weeks ahead, or

about how I am a mythical monster when hungry -

both for love and fries.

Stop and admire

my terrible, horrible indecision

and decide for yourself if it's a nice artist manifesto.

Almost free entry.

I just want to be paid with

eye contact and your dearest memory.

Sign the guestbook on your way out,

I'll use it to learn to write other stories

in your exact handwriting.