And I’m just waiting till the shine wears off

One must be grateful, I suppose. For everything.

What kind of sentence completes itself
Before I tell it to?

Why must I write
in phrases that don’t make sense?

It’s almost shameful to watch
someone struggle to create.

To create. To create a self,
a person. That I am not?

I build these castles in the air
and let them melt away
so I can watch me
watch them.

And I cannot bear to look at myself
in the mirror.
Still.

(I hate the compulsive confessing.)

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