You just lost your mind! I lunged at a distant cousin with my fists out and my uncles pulling me back by my shirt. All I felt was a blind rage coming undone in my thirteen year old body, geared towards beating the living shit out of her. I think of that memory with some embarrassment, a token of my unpredictability and the way rage can control me more than I can control it. I was angry and disorientated, having lost a father recently, having my father replaced by a strange new town with strange new rules. Like I probably needed sedatives to adjust but instead I used pure adrenaline and put my flailing arms around me like a protective windmill. Stop hitting yourself, stop hitting yourself!
Her name is Rio and she dances on the… Straight on it is so pretty, it is so sweet and aligned to sugar and daisies and the other sort of nice things you may find in a swedish primary school or marc jacobs advert. It is normal, it is slender, it is straight - straight and thin, beautifully straight, little little as it seems it’s oh so sweetly straight. A slight angular turn, a slight 30% turn of my stiff neck and whoomp there it is. Just like the rap song. The conk. The beak, she screams another day, her name is Rio and she dances on the bump of my fucking nose.