My mind is a handful of dirty looks on the train, my lumpy body pressed against the rail.
A girl glares at a man when he stumbles into her and i smile in triumph when she bumps her bag into me later.
At work i escape to the toilet once an hour.
Today a man exits the bathroom and my mind blurts, ‘i love you,’ like a second voice. I don’t love him, though.
And my mind whispers another ‘i love you’ to a woman in a green dress. I recognise her self hate. I drink it up.
My head sways to a new song, my new song. I tell someone how much i love it. They don’t listen. I still sing it all day.
On the night train i spy a woman knitting small beanies and i like to imagine her making them for her cats. She has a wedding ring on her finger. I think i love her, too.
Stepping inside. Home. In the mirror i think ‘i hate you’, scream it in my head. I remember all of the people i silently loved today. No one loves me out loud.