Your hair smells of petrol.
You’re ridiculous.
You’re selfish.
Your soul is beautiful.
You’re stupid.
You’re too intelligent.
You think far too much of yourself.
You hate yourself.
You are possessed by something.
You are 100% yourself.
You come like you’re having a fit. It scares me when
you come.
You’re demanding.
You need more than I can give.
You don’t care about anything other than yourself.
You need to care about yourself more than you do.
You have a deathwish.
You spin with joy at being alive.
You have ice-cold eyes.
You have eyes that blaze.
You walk like a bear.
You walk like peculiar royalty.
You should never have been born.
You bless the world.
You think too much. You don’t think enough.
You lock yourself away.
You drink too much.
You need too much.
You need more than the world can give you.
You’re funny.
You laugh at things that aren’t funny.
You say things no-one else could ever understand.
You write things in which you are the centre of the world
and feel none of the shame you should.
You smell of chlorine.
You smell of toast.
You shine. You glow. You give off no light or heat.
You are a star. You are a black hole.
You’re anti-matter. You’re dark fabric.
You’re a flickering flame.
You’re a gaping maw of needs.
You need to be alone.
You need to be with other people constantly.
You curl up like a woodlouse, like a pangolin, a fern.
You are as far beyond doubt as a swan.
.
Niall Griffiths
Picture Nick Victor
.