days
stretch over lifetimes,
as if all the clocks in the world
wore themselves out —
and certain mornings
i shapeshift
i create different molds for myself
to fit into
i do not know why i must change
but i do know it helps.
the scissors clip and
my hair floats as fallen feathers
towards the base of the sink
i wake up only to
not recognize the girl in the mirror
and greet her w a smile.
she is
sad.
and there are so many worlds
she wishes she was exploring.
i wish i could help her.
but all i do is hurt her,
and i do not know where to
begin
asking for her forgiveness.
Jul 3, 2020
Jul 3, 2020 at 1:52 PM UTC
days
stretch over lifetimes,
as if all the clocks in the world
wore themselves out —
and certain mornings
i shapeshift
i create different molds for myself
to fit into
i do not know why i must change
but i do know it helps.
the scissors clip and
my hair floats as fallen feathers
towards the base of the sink
i wake up only to
not recognize the girl in the mirror
and greet her w a smile.
she is
sad.
and there are so many worlds
she wishes she was exploring.
i wish i could help her.
but all i do is hurt her,
and i do not know where to
begin
asking for her forgiveness.
