Poetry

Jet Skiied Skies

No fumes could make me forget the sensitive stares of others
Or the clouds that start to look like jet-skiied sea
Let's stop pretending that we're not sick
That we're not savage animals looking for more than what we have
Even when we have it all
The creek of the shit brown closet door opens
And you see something that every fear you have warns you about
You see yourself
How far you've come, the work you put to get here
And somehow, somewhere
You are still the person you swore to yourself you would never be