Self-helpless Miracals

   I found my rut again. The one I covered with tarpaulin to stop the rain from filling it, scribbled its location into inky blackness on my map, thought I'd lost for good. and I'm sitting at the bottom now, with the tarpaulin around my eyes and ears and mouth and when it rains it fucking pours in here. 

The same bloodied stains of imperfection and inadequacy smeared across the dirt walls, as though fortifying it. and now it seems as though I had never left this gaping crater in the side street of my mind. on every side street of the mind this isnt good this is overly contrived i hate adichie i hate achebe i want to crumble i am crumblign i am crumbs there is so much rain and i am mud a helpless mud that cant' geto ut of me  write out side of me girl get out of your head get out of your