A Poem Called “A Premonition”

You found me in my best state

Joyful, confident, unafraid

A state that you’ve helped craft

Like I’m a piece of clay and you’re the pottery-maker

Running your hands along my sides

Smoothing out all the bumps and bruises with a simple touch

But smoothing isn’t healing

And my scars run deeper than the surface

Eventually you’ll have to sculpt the inside

Where shards of abuse and nails of self-loathing are found

Don’t ignore the DO NOT ENTER signs

Their brilliant red will transfer to your hands

And blood will trickle down your arms

Where you used to hold me

But where you now wipe clean

The truth you didn’t foresee


Just as you smoothed my surface

You cleanse your own


You’ll leave me in my best state

Smiling, understanding, still caring

As my shards and nails sink deeper

To make room for more


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