I'm a stranger in my own life.

Just be yourself. You don't have to put on an act."
"To be myself, I have to put on an act," Ginny said bitterly.
"What's that mean?"
"It means I don't know who I am.

Shrinking in a corner,
pressed into the wall;
do they know I'm present,
am I here at all?

There is safety in numbness–
there is solace
in sleep.

I don't think all writers are sad, she said.
I think it's the other way around—
all sad people write.

Do you know what it is like,
to lie in bed awake;
with thoughts to haunt
you every night,
of all your past mistakes.

Knowing sleep will set it right -
if you were not to wake.