Am I the shadow of others?
When was I last steeped in fog,
Shades of grey and dingy slate.
When will they realize that I am not
- cannot be
What I have been constructed as.
What I have constructed myself as,
A bottle full of hope,
Little letters, vowels,
Torn apart and manipulated
into another language entirely.
I almost believe it myself.
I will only disappoint when they realize
I drink out of the carton.