From Insane Songs
I'm going to start
drawing heavy lines
around my portrait.
It's time I made a
fortress to protect who I am.
I can feel the borders
weakening even now.
I think that's how
the youthful world will kill me,
not from the inside,
but by wearing down my outer edges,
making room. They need room.
They worry about room.
I will protect
what is left of myself
against advice, suggestions,
declarations about my
incorrectness, commands.
Those make me
turn my head this way and that,
frightened like a hunted animal.
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