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.
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.
