The Roots Crowd My Reflection

I’m not you. And I never will be. Even though as each day dies off, I’ve come to notice you in passing windows. When it should be me looking back, I realize that I’m the apple that fell. Far too close to the tree. When I wish I could’ve rolled a little farther. I push and push, but my roots always come back to you. Strangling me and dragging me back to places I will never miss. My eyes, my lips, my teeth, They all scream you. So I change, I change, I change, Till I can’t even recognize myself. But on those rare occasions, I find myself catching a glimpse of Your eyes, your lips, your teeth. Screaming at me.