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Abstract

until I forget them altogether</p><p id="b7d0">But then the wind passes through me and I realize that I am swiss cheese From the outside, a whole being but at closer glance, perforated</p><p id="37e4">I wish I had those hole reinforcements that we used to use in our Trapper Keepers so I could secure all of my holes and allow myself not to be pulled out</p><p id="ca66">It’s weird though, when someone realizes that they can see right through me and that my insides are just a looking glass to the other side of this body</p><p id="d1f8">Because they never look at me the same again They see the spout, they feel the breeze, and they look through my perforations and realize

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I am just a reflection of them</p><p id="465a">© <a href="undefined">Jonathan Greene</a> 2020</p><p id="3b32">If you liked this, you might like this as well:</p><div id="c8fe" class="link-block"> <a href="https://readmedium.com/bent-hope-ebca9147b05"> <div> <div> <h2>Bent Hope</h2> <div><h3>A Poem</h3></div> <div><p>medium.com</p></div> </div> <div> <div style="background-image: url(https://miro.readmedium.com/v2/resize:fit:320/0*oo4W9TTrM2HtvWZ4)"></div> </div> </div> </a> </div></article></body>

Perforated

A Poem

Photo by Donald Giannatti on Unsplash

Even when I think I’m strong and nothing can get to me all I have to do is drink a glass of water and watch the water spout from my holes

Holes where feelings used to be I hide things there, tuck them away like distant memories and hardships until I forget them altogether

But then the wind passes through me and I realize that I am swiss cheese From the outside, a whole being but at closer glance, perforated

I wish I had those hole reinforcements that we used to use in our Trapper Keepers so I could secure all of my holes and allow myself not to be pulled out

It’s weird though, when someone realizes that they can see right through me and that my insides are just a looking glass to the other side of this body

Because they never look at me the same again They see the spout, they feel the breeze, and they look through my perforations and realize I am just a reflection of them

© Jonathan Greene 2020

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Poetry
Existentialism
Reflections
Life
Deep Thoughts
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