hatch

Your life is an egg.
Push on the colors in your lenses,
just watch;
they’ll crack,
fall like walls.
Everything that’s ever happened to you is yolk,
fluid firming into feathers;
feel them bristle when you see
an especially interesting tree
and know that it’s more real
than you were ever meant to be.
Don’t be afraid.
One day we’ll leave our starless,
sharkless cocoons,
break through
our amniotic rooms
to join
a new parade.

11 Comments

  1. Thoughtful. Thoughtful because I had to read it twice to know what the poem exactly means. Your compositions, at least to me, take two-three reads to understand. And when I finally do understand, I don’t hesitate to press like. Beautifully composed again!

    1. I love this – I love that they draw you back through them again and I love that they’re obscure, because I’m that type of annoying artist, and I love that you wrote to me. Thank you ❤

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