Based On A True Feeling
Now something has broken, and her vision is brand new and it feels amazing. Little more than a week past eighteen and really in her own skin for the first time. Like he gave her something that would always be hers.
This is the first time she has let herself look in the mirror since then.
A semi-poetic, unfocused, whiskey-soaked rant about the sweet spot between isms and that our choices in ideologues is a pack of false shaman preaching horseshit.