Sometimes I am a stranger to myself, trapped in a house that I do not belong in a neighborhood that bears no warmth or safety in a country that I do not remember on a planet confused with another planet amidst a universe that does not exist. And my life is swallowed up into the void or madness, whichever comes first. It all feels the same, the contradiction of terminology. I disengage, disconnect, dismantle, feed my brain, feed my impulse. The candle stays lit even when there is no fire. The carnival is only a half a block down the road, but she’d rather grind gears in another direction. She’s wearing her armor-plated clothes tonight, and the moon feels like a spotlight on her empty soul. The wind sounds like static from a car radio. In the silence she screams. In the silence she cries. In the silence she burns bridges and says goodbye!!!