see me, then you don’t.

I feel so young and naked

like there is always something I’m not getting

I’m not quite there and it’s cold.

It would be nice to be ready for something and not

always so unequivocally inadequate, dangling

on the edge of what’s going on,

where is everyone, anyways?

It’s too quiet. I’m someone else,

words escape me yet again.

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