Sometimes I find myself counting the spots left on the mirror after I've brushed my teeth,
or spinning around my room, making sense of the patterns on the ceiling.

Sometimes I crawl up the stairs like some sort of feline
with my fingers curled in,
because I've always wanted to be a lion.

Sometimes I giggle to fill in the silence
or play with the focus of my eyes
by holding my hand before my face.

Sometimes I peel paint off the furniture
as I talk on the phone.


I'm a peculiar individual,
I'd like to think.

I have the habit
of twitching my nose
much like a rabbit,
when I try not to sneeze.

I can't sleep without closing the door.
I think I'm overly entranced by the sky
--day or night.






I don't know where I was going with this.
Maybe reestablishing my own identity among those
so much like me.

Who knows?