I spent an hour trying to get an eyelash out of my eye today.
I think it’s still there.
Maybe it’s still there.
A part of me wants to blame the fact that I want to cry, even now as I type this, on my raging, womanly hormones and another part of me wants to blame the eyelash that is
Not still there.
Someone stole my loofa this morning.
Maybe they took my ribs too.
Either way, neither one- my bones nor the ball of plastic-y scrunch- was there when I looked for them in their