He lives in my spoon, when it's empty. If I wipe my plate clean I can spot him there too. He is happy when I am happy, and this makes him the perfect flat mate.  Since I moved to this city, I can only count on him. I'll be just fine here the jungle is right next to my house and no one cares if I've got the correct documents. Modern society was digging a hole in my soul, my blood levels were constantly under control, just like my bank account. Here is different, no one spies on me, no one fines me for wearing the wrong clothes.. No one judges me, no one bothers me yeah and I could even die without bothering anyone. In the city I left I was just a number, here I'm nothing, it's like flying in space. 
 He lives in the bubbles when I'm about to get in the bath.  When I cry he laughs. It's funny, since I moved here I can't find my things, if I put them on the table, I find them in a drawer. I find my wallet in my empty fridge, and if I look closer I can see my flat mate in there. Maybe I should feed him, he's like a tamed stray dog who starts smelling blood when he's hungry. In my old city I always had food, here I'll need to learn how to hunt, like a stray dog. 
 He lives in the mirror, if I smile, he smiles harder. He's got more teeth than I do, his eyes are wider and a bit lighter. In this new city no one cares about what I did. It was my life or his, I had no choice really, but here no one judges me for it, in here policemen die all the time. Maybe he died, I didn't check, I had to run. But I still keep his teeth in a metal box that used to contain sweets. My flatmate lives there too, behind those rattling teeth. I didn't want to hurt a cop, but it was him or me, he wanted to crush me because i was not compatible with the system. In here it will be different, in here the rules are like eggs, they work when you break them. In my old city someone else decided for me what's good and what's evil, in here is up to me. 
 He lives on the ceiling, which I can't stop staring at. I spend my days lying on my back, I haven't gone out in weeks. If I pull the sheets over my head he lives under the sheets too. He fucks up anything I try to do, he moves my things, he stops me whenever I try to do something good. If I'm in front of two doors he points at the wrong one. Since I moved to this city the only thing I'm able to do is survive, but... I'm not sure why I bother. 
 Now he lives in my room, he's circling around my bed which I can't get out of. He looks like a hungry stray dog who feeds on my fear. When I'm scared, he grows bigger. But when I want to die he doesn't want me to, when I tell him to leave me alone he takes my hand and tells me: You've been in bed long enough, get up, I'll help you. He pulls me up, he fixes my hair and takes me outside. I want to hug him but I realize I'm on my own. And actually that's enough.