i am lost.
i am stumbling.
Luz, come back-

she can't hear me.
She's too far away.

I don't know.
I don't know.
I don't know.

i am fragile glass:
transparent, brittle,
empty.

i worry sometimes that the voices in my head, the thoughts that pop into it are
not mine. They are the voices of my unborn brainchildren
the characters I do not create
they cannot break free and so they remain
me. A hundred million voices not mine, with no mouth
dying to speak.

And here I am, with a voice and a mouth
and nothing to say.