Molting Time and time again I wonder what change would feel like Maybe my body wouldn’t feel like a shell I wonder if I could leave the pain with this body When I shed my skin does the trauma go with it Molting Would I feel new again I wonder if I would like this new body This new skin Free from scars and sores from 2010 Maybe the mind would be new too Molting Thinking of molting Molting the idea of me Molting the body of me I want to feel fresh I want to feel clean I want to know what it’s like to be me again Molting cause it’s necessary Surviving requires molting Molting is a necessity of survival This body is battered It’s scarred The mahjong doesn’t look so bright anymore How does black turn blue Molting Honey don’t taste sweet no more
I wrote this poem amidst an internal crisis. I was stuck thinking about the possibility of leaving pain and becoming someone else, as many of us have thought about.