Ice Blink

I feel like this sometimes as if I am all alone but surrounded by moving bodies filled with heat fake smiles on plastic faces 

There is this idea that children have a fear of storms. The distant rumble of thunder a warning to run to their parents' bedroom, throw back the covers, and burrow deep into the familiar warmth. 

17 years,

of growing and learning.

These are the days,

I remember how much I am me,

each year passes,

I find more pieces of me,

I pick them up off the ground,

build myself up,

i’ve been dancing alone a little too long

my resilience corroding with each blink

i haven’t broken down like this since

well i don’t expect myself to remember