Written by Friederike Wiessner.
i adapt
to the circumstances around me
i am a guest, less free—
i am nice, sincerely try to be
my gratitude is deep-felt
i start believing (myself) that this is a home
unpaid for, except for
me being nice, me spending time
with serenity in compromise
fold-out beds and couches
dig their claws into my back
oh how my ribs burn
i am treated with reverence
fairy-tale princess
awake on piled stacks
of too-soft mattresses
awkwardness like dried peas
scores of layers
underneath
my vertebrae talk
thank you for your blow-up mattress
my stomach speaks
i would very much like some toast with hummus
served on a kitchen napkin
my lungs breathe
thank you for sharing your blunt with me
eyes dark blue pools and light blue skies
my departure hovers
over the clouds we breathe out
