If pandora's box is opened, and the lid is set aside, then how does a person go about inching the materials back into place with such curiosity? Drunk, sick, and burning hot from the hairline on my forehead to the tips of my toes - I find myself laying in the bathroom floor again. Shirt off, clammy skin pressing hard against the linoleum floor, leaving a small outline in condensation from my body heat. It's similar to the outline left from a finger, writing words in cursive on a bathroom mirror... in the condensation left over from a shower, left over from washing off the shame of sleeping all day. Such curiosity, and I wonder what it's like to break the cycle of fever dreams, shut the books traditionally laid out and stutter when asked why I'm on such a high horse with nowhere to go.
     I stutter when I have nothing to say, and when I'm reading out loud.. from nervousness. And it takes no aggression to make a girl like me nervous. So I write my messages in cursive on mirrors, and when you wake up... Hopefully you'll notice the impressions left from my skin with an honest message. After the heat of a shower, or the heat of a drunken sickness... Both having made me dream pretty wildly.