Egoistic trip*

She craves for attention
Every inch of her does
Even her menstrual blood

She thrives under the spotlight
Seeks admirers and voyeurs
Looks deep into their eyes
To find a spark of admiration
Validating her existence

She dances under the water
Plays air-guitar beneath her bed
Draws butterflies on the pillows
With her bodily discharges

She observes miseries
Dispassionately
Looks up to people who dream

She creates a world of illusions
Where everything she sees exists
And what she doesn’t see
Is not
Never was
And will not be

Existence is through her eyes only.