Sitting between the colours, right on the edge of all the words
The ones spoken with conviction but silently, or to a room full of emptiness
I rush about with urgency in order to avoid doing what I'm sure will get me to where I need to be going
And by doing this, I forfeit ever truly needing to be anywhere
It is with this that I only ever feel the need to dip my toes into what is going on around me
Thoroughly entertained by my hidden sense of self-importance verbally abusing the unconscious body of my anaemic self-esteem
But there's these eyes that have their hold on the tap of how aware I am of the fact that I am me
And lately they've put the water on cold and the shock has sent me face-first into most days
The smile that sits below it has lips that push waves through oceans I've used to harbour islands
Islands for self-isolation under the guise of safety, but now she's a first-aid kit and I'm too aware of how I get when I bleed.
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