Please hold me.

This figure that resembles a woman now,

Some 15 years too late,

Is that of a frightened nestling.

Escaping the memories,

Where angular fulcra,

Threatened to splinter under your palm.


Please show me.

How the other girls took their new shadows,

Fresh from the chrysalis

And molded them into,

Something less tacky,

Less vulnerable.

Less ink-shaken.

How they trusted themselves not to shatter or sublime,

Under their own breath.


(c) Accidental Tentacles 2017


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