the stranger with the broken mug

there is a fucking big moth moping around in my room and i think i may have just dislocated its wing because i am swishing a crumpled piece of paper violently across random areas of air. the sharp edges may have sliced off its ability to fly. it has stopped moving. i flick my finger against its body. it starts to flutter around haphazardly and climbs onto my wrist. i am irritated. i brush it off impatiently. it flies away and conveniently settles itslef upon the curved surface of a $2 yellow highlighter from the reject shop. the moth is stupid stupid moth.

it lives today.


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