When we were younger

we played make believe grown ups

We're grown up and still playing

 

I spend most conversations with adults

chewing slang

til its lost its flavour

Swallowing things

doesn't make them go away

Spitting them out

is refusing to hide any more

 

I'm happy if I'm as Me as possible

Me as

cartoon in the mirror

Me as

glint in your eye

Me as

lost crayon nursery self portrait

 

Meteors don't want to crash

they just haven't worked out

how to orbit politely

 

Sometimes I can't fit

all the thoughts in my head

So I find them homes

in other parts of my body

Fingertips

hold them better than knuckles

Mouth

better than eyelids

Chest

better than feet

 

I spend whole days listening

to the marks on my skin

Whole nights

at the feet of the stars

Letting them tell me

how they got here

Atonement

for all the years

I denied their existence

 

I think finding myself is like

looking for other lost things

Just need to check all my pockets

Retrace my steps

Look under everything

 

It'll be here somewhere