Tag: identity

you find the ingredients 
to lose yourself 
in the kitchen cabinets. 
in twelve hours with coconut oil, 
a chopstick and a fork, 
you unkink your hair and
lose a piece of yourself in 
the air that blows between the doorways
of the only home you’ve ever known. 

you’re down a limb, and you can 
feel its phantom 
brushing up against your body, 
trapped
within these same walls. 

you shut the door quickly
when you leave so
that it cannot escape. 
it has to stay inside. 
you want to visit sometime
soon.