I’m sitting here looking at the grooves in your skin


‘we have the same blood coursing through our veins.’


as the weight of your words slowly crack the surface of my deepest cognizance


‘we have the same gaps in our teeth.’

Avoiding the weight of the world that your words bring into my existence

all I can focus on

is mom’s smile that we all inherited

while avoiding all the things I’ve merited

in my life story

that is no linger true, nor is it real.


I’m becoming undone by those words that reveal.

‘we have the same moles on our faces that look like freckles,’

and all the while

my inner child boos and heckles

those things you are telling me that’s supposed to be real

cause all I wanna do is go home and begin to heal.


What I end up doing is writing and crying then write some more,

to try and discover the real and get past the lore.

Thinking about the ways we are so undoubtedly connected

as we sit here talking

I’m simultaneously dejected.


About thepsych1

I am a natural progression. As I learn and grow, so does this blog as a reflection of myself. Poetry Art Videos Critique Let's collaborate. Bring your friends.
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