I wish to leave my body,
Keeping my soul tacked beneath my skin,
So that as Gemini I could exist,
Both within and without, myself.
I wish to kiss my insecurity,
And tell myself of my worth.
Judgment lays before me and God,
None other  know each and every causation.
Yet instead,
This other me is poised,
Knife in hand.
Her palms are stained red,
Cutting my soul is no new hobby of hers.
I long for her,
To recognize me as good enough,
Cute,
Smart,
But she refuses,
And stabs the knife again.