a manic madness
in mannerisms
and nervous tics
my foot is always tapping
knuckles cracking
fingers scratching zits.
i push the perimeter of pimples
so far outwards,
i can never recall
the exact size
of the initial flaw.
what sparkle is left
dulls as it falls
on the pearly scar
tissue of fissures.
i pull or i pose
i never sit still but
i know a fetal way to lay
while half awake.
it's relatively safe
if i find the right place
to let my gaze glaze.
i have many faces
that easily become faceless
when examined on a closer basis,
they settle back into the mist.
i read somewhere
that the abyss stares back
and i'm just so scared of that
reflection of inflected light.
What did you think
Comments
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This is interesting. I'm the same way with fidgeting. Good poem.
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