the air around us is fogging up, it is getting harder to see ourselves in the mirror. getting harder to see the reflection of who we are; of who we are supposed to be; of who we are meant to be; of who we have always been.
let me tell you something, a little piece of advice: you shouldn't lose yourself just because you found someone.
there isn't a person on this earth who should stray you far enough to where you cannot recognize your own face in the mirror; to where you cannot recognize the sound of your own voice; to where you cannot recognize the emotions you have felt for your entire life.
and if you find someone who encases you in a new skin: take it off. shed. you do not need it.
but if you like your new skin; keep it. if you want to be brand new and unused, then keep it. dear god, keep it.
however, i must ask, please do not come crying back to the ones who have moved on, the ones who have shed their skins , the ones who have found themselves once more; don't come back when you decide to keep your new skin and add new ones and create a collection. when your layers pile up and get too heavy, do not come crying to us.
take it off. shed.
[r.k.]
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head mess | poetry
Poetryin which i believe i fall into, through, and out of love. dedicated to the butterfly who trapped me before i could trap it. [volume i] [poetry and prose] [2016-2017]
