i do not
read myself
i figure
i already had to
live it

so going through
a story
and editing it
is a form of hell

all i see
like in the mirror
is the flaws
reminding me
of how as i
stare at the ceiling
reliving the past
i cannot simply
fix the narrative
take back
the bad parts
and use this
to create
a new past

i don’t
read myself
that person
is already dead
a skin shed
and this fresh flesh
of indecision
all my attention
as i steer
the vessel into
another iceberg

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