A Passing Object

for who i am right now, i'm but the result of someone's monstrous generosity first they would show you the bright colors and later sink their teeth into your skin was it a cactus hidden among the flowers? or was it a snake in the lake? this poet couldn't differentiate as they both share their thorn and fangs with you and for so long, i tried to make sense of it all only to realize i was a passing object you never needed