Haunted by my own reflection
By the shape of my teeth
I am a walking reflection of fragments
That were woven together with love and
certainty
I am becoming uncertain
A nervous ship washes along my shore
Within the grains of the wood I make out my
age, to the day
Clouds roll a top of the sinking feeling in my
guts
Where I stand, I feel the sand between my teeth
I address the sky and it’s inappropriate claim
of opportunity and reasoning
Begging for a conclusion that won’t make a fool
of me
I want to leave it to those who gave birth to
me, hoping it’ll
snuff out the turmoil, bring it’s intensity
down to a simmer
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