Wood Slats

Gazing up at the wood slats of this bed frame
I don’t feel you’ve really known me
Besides just my name
The name you gave
 
Where am I? All I can see is nothing
Fate is fatal and I’m shedding
So many layers of skin 
Like a snake but all in one sitting
 
These slats have grain to which I can see 
Maybe I’m in one of those lines
That once belonged to a tree
Maybe just maybe that is me

Madeleine Regal is a poet interested in the roots and interconnectedness of everything.  She loves exploring through different mediums, and is a lover of the mystical and musical.

Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/bibagroove/

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