Sometimes, I see shards of you in me,

Jutting out from under my reflection,

Like shiny fragments of shrapnel residue,

Residing, dormant, waiting to emerge and see

If the truth will unravel before I do.

A mutual knowing, muted by tactical acceptance,

Amplifying my anxious desire to give in to exposure,

Destroy daily recurrence behind crescent moon eyes,

And extract the deep buried debris of resemblance,

Because you left me myself to remember you by,

And I can’t escape that, even if I try.

 

 

 

 

Isabella Lewis is an aspiring writer and poet currently living in Wokingham, where she attends a local Sixth Form. She is an avid reader and is inspired primarily by abnormal and absurd literature. She has been writing for many years but only recently began composing poetry. She mostly writes free verse or prose poetry, and the majority of her work reflects mental stability and the defying of social and political conventions.