here i am in my thirtieth year
sporting horse oil
and salt-crusted eyes
still choosing the wrong men
eating myself sick
hunting for purpose like a poacher
longing to unzip my own skin
there are things boiling inside me
even as life’s hairpin turns
roil my stomach with nausea
on my way to meet my future self
i burn through pride like ether
blooming underground like an orchid
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