Today's OneWord: Confide
When there's no one around, I confide in my bedpost, or the glossy old photographs taped to my mirror. Sometimes, I find faces in the notches of wood, where a smile looks more natural than on real skin. I drape my arms over the mattress and think, "If I rub hard enough, maybe all of this static electricity will wake up my brain and my heart, and I'll be able to dance again. Probably not, though." Everything's icy as early as noon. And everything's hot when I try to sleep.