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And in my imagination I’m very slim except for my stomach bloated with a wee parasite kicking and stretching somebody new softer my spine will have curled the fat that perks my cheeks will drop sag and crease.
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I remember once a softish-nipply blobbish person caring for me with big-salty-fat juicy-yummy tears rumbling to my open baiting tongue liiiiike mmmhmm delicious swaddled in a big-black blanket secure-unconditional ease limbs tied down and I liiiiiiiiike it I am nothing and teeny-tiny and itty-bitty and pretty my imaginary feet are in my imaginary mouth they are mmmmmmm ooooOOOoo delicious!
You tell me (with some small triumph) I’ll be sort of ugly then Since I won’t have moisturized (like you tell me to) I refuse to eat my vegetables too, the greens and roots you like I refuse to take my vitamins, I refuse to maintain my figure. I won’t hydrate I’ll take up cigarettes.
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I IMAGINE ING Y R CAR A CHILD
