4/30--The Guard Speaks

Let me speak to you of paranoia—I am her instrument. Those eyes on the back of your neck are mine. Whisper in the dark and wonder if someone is listening— know that I am, and I’m writing it all down. It may be important. No one has ever studied you so closely, not even your mother in her obsessed first days of motherhood. I am an expert in every one of you. I psychoanalyze in my spare time based on your reading material, chronicle your health from my graphs on visits to the toilet. In the dark, I whisper your names and the time your have left with me—I know nobody is listening. This is not the life I would have chosen, but it is mine and I aim to be good at it.