Cross legged and cozy in a corner of my closet, I compose and choreograph compelling encounters for the charming, cool and clever me, that needs coaxing out. In my cocoon I can cry out in condemnation of the cynics, the cruel cliques and the cunning chameleons with their cloying compliments and chocolate coated cack-with-corners comments. I crave the confidence and courage to circumvent convoluted cringeworthy conversations with cowards and cretins and to curb catastrophic cross-eyed conclusions leading to countless nights curled up crying. I just want to comprehend and be comprehended. My capricious body calls. Creative juices flow. Can you see my confusion? Can you hear the chaos inside of me?