To sink within the shell,
the shell of my being, to hide
within the vast space of my
soul and stay there a while
collecting different shades
of glass that must have
chipped from my insides
and laid, scattered.
I'll put those piece together
slowly within me, within myself,
in the depths of my being.
And raise it high into my eyes
so that the sun can try and
shine through my new stain
glass eyes. And I'll remember.
I'll remember everything
of that moment while my
fingers are slowly sliced
by my own memories
within my being, fixing me.
Slowly, sort of, differently.
New eyes, I see myself.
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