I am

I am the loose ends of string that are too short to tie
That will always leave your fingers bleeding
No matter how hard you try 
I am that one hazy star that is a little too far to see
So you will settle at blissing yourself into thinking
That the airplane's cockpit light humming by is as beautiful as me 
I am the chip in your porcelain teacup that you cannot help but set aside
Believing that just because a canyon stretch marks my design
That I also can't hold tea and cream as if nothing works on my inside 
I am the last minute rush to the surface
Gushing suicidal water out of your lips 
That you will always hate but secretly thank excusing it as some kind of test 
I am the slimy clam that you crack open by the sea
Nothing but grime and slugs tumbling out 
The failure of hope and pearls inside of me 
I am the insomnia that you love and the insomnia that you hate
The one that colors and darkens your night
I am every reminder of your fate. 

-anna sluder

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