Fruit Fly

It  was this thought

this little annoying fruit fly

something is in my brain and it changes me,

Everyone is scared they cry when I don't seem to give a s*** 

but I care 

I do

It's just this fly

this condemning little portion of my brain that tells me to say these things 

to do these awful, wonderful, glorious things to me 

because me is not me 

I am now a porcelain doll dropped too many times and every crack in my fragile face hosts a small river of flowing water

that seep into my brain and annoy the fly 

where it buzzes and changes me.