To feel the presence of how others imagine us
To not stay in sight of a present moment
But to rift and sway under the tides of others
,not the pull of my own oceans
,my own celestial forces.
These eyes, eyes of others they press into the back of my skull
Impressions etched by the history of my past
A time filled with the forms I feared and forms I longed for
Don’t hurt me, Don’t hate me,
Miss me-
This pain,
This validation
What was it all good for?
Maybe it was I needed to get me through those years
Maybe those years have past
Maybe those etchings have disappeared
For there is only one pair of eyes that see
A gaze of my own
A vision unobscured by what was felt from all those years
Outreaching into this world
Raw to the touch
Present to the moment
And present to myself.
