*This post was accepted as an honorary mention.
Imagine lying on creaking floorboards,
Walls losing themselves
Under fragments of tape,
And ripped polaroids,
A jarred piano playing its final breath.
I tell myself “It’s alright,”
But I have forgotten,
I am just a lost penny in a bustling street,
A blank mirror of visibility
Inkless,
Trying to write identity in bold,
I demand it again and again
To clog memories from being washed away,
To hold all the tiny feathers in cupped hands,
To find an oasis for the emptied tongue
But lost,
Seeing only a shunned shadow in stunning daylight,
And black dye,
Staining the letters of recognize,
Questioning my rigid thought like uncut split ends
“Is this me?”
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