I am learning to love my reflection.

I have new hands,
old calluses have surfaced from trying to drag you around with me
making sure your limbs are all attached to my backside.
Pulling my hair to reveal the secrets I am hiding from you,
you cannot harvest my thoughts from kissing me
let me catch you washing your hands every time I ask you where you’ve been.

My new hands have the desire to remove your hand prints off my sides.
I can see myself.

I have brand new eyes,
and they see through the smoke.

I’ve bathed in the sorrows of every heartbreak,
but this time I’m drinking the water.

Busted my ceiling so I could breath,
let the air infiltrate my lungs and I was reminded of what it is like to love what I already own.

me.