The problem is that none of you
know me. It’s not your fault,
but you pretend to, and I let you
because I like it when strangers
say they love me.
Especially when they’re far away
enough to not have to show it.

I’m not a liar. I am, but I’m not.
Have you ever been so empty that
the echo turned into a story? Into
a new body that weeped forever?

I don’t know what love is.
I’ve been working up to that.
I’m just howling. I’m looking
at faces and getting smaller.
I touch myself but I never
fuck myself. It’s different.
I shouldn’t be waiting for someone
but I am.
I’m shrinking, shrieking, shaking
like a leaf.
I’m a boat sailing to the new world
but there’s no one on it.
I’m blazing fucking trails
but I’m alone. A stranger.

Men make me cry. Women make
me wish I was brave.
Not a soul in this world could love me.
I wouldn’t even know what it
looked like.

Caitlyn Siehl, The Untouchable


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