Fistful of Self

Are turned inside out
Not by a thread
But by the fabric itself
The subversion of identity
Submersion of self
Into a system of pieces
That may box us in if reassembled
Or attach to our insecurities
Before scattering to the wind
Carrying us away
In a fragmenting
Vomiting up the questions
Of whatever defines
Or destroys

We shine at our most fractured
The edge-sharp pieces
Catch the eye
To be dulled or reshaped
At every turn on display

Did you see me unraveling?
I saw you look but I could not tell
If recognition there
Was yours
Or reflecting

I’m holding all of my threads
Fistful of self


About Leil_ish

I am restless and intensely curious about almost everything that most people don't care about.
This entry was posted in Uncategorized and tagged , , . Bookmark the permalink.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s