i see an outline of my former self,
which has slowly, almost calculatingly,
been peeled away from the feelings
and emotions that i once felt,
leaving a hollow center and a bitter
outer surface behind.
they see a bubble of quick thoughts
and a sharp mind, picking up everything
in its wake and transforming broken hope
into light, and love, and wonder;
they see someone who has learnt to
live as they expect and desire.
perhaps, one day, the outline and the
person/ality will fuse and take them on
and she, or rather I, will vanquish my
my numb senses and live
as i once wanted to.
YOU ARE READING
set free
Poetrya cluster of thoughts, hidden below the very folds of my subconscious
