Friday, 9 December 2011


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.
Marinated. Manufactured.
I almost believe it myself.

I will only disappoint when they realize
I drink out of the carton.

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