My insides have dissolved inside this sack of skin I was given.
I may look a moth but I’m a butterfly now.
I’ve shifted neurons—while everyone who knows me treats me the same.
Difficult. Hard. Impossible. But I did it.
I’ve separated everything from me.
I’m drinking nectar now.
To use my poetry, please contact me (view profile for email). White-space best viewed on desktop.
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