I miss being the self that I understood.
Here, muted in color and thought, I am often lost
in my own words, confused. Before
here, I could say things in any language
and rarely be misunderstood
because directness is imperative
when one is only present for a moment at a time.
This frustration of tongue, that
what I mean and what I say can possibly be two different things – i
feel myself slipping,
sinking backwards behind a reality of protocol and what is cool,
swimming in masques of politeness and belonging.