iʻve tried to find a way to make this cancer crumble
surround myself with beautiful people
sometimes
i cant help but second guess this skin
this smile
cant tell if its mine or
maybe i just borrowed it from a beautiful woman
the one with the eyes that grip
maybe ill have to give it back once sheʻs left
the answer to that last line is yes.
never mind the space i find in the absence of her laugh
something about the moving away
the bodies in retreat
i cant escape
iʻve tried to find a way to make this quiet speak
but no
its only me
and a pen that refused to dance across the page
i think i've lost the ability to properly reflect
and so instead,
i panic.
all i have are expectations
and a million voices in my head saying,
"are you sure you can do this"
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