split like ends

like wood
like I feel when I talk how I’m supposed to
about small things, feet straddling
with one foot on relatively normal
and one foot on relatively not
with one foot on talking, jaw snapping
repeating, thoughts filtering
and one foot on reflecting
thinking about thinking
not completely comfortable
on the other side

split like my sexuality
split like my personality
split like a hard-boiled egg, cooked improperly
split like the abyss I stand across
like the light on the lake
my reflection in the water
a single hand reaching out, grasping
a dock that keeps extending
an invisible shoreline receding
cloven hoof prints in the sand.

split like a worm’s heart
because I was cracked open
because I couldn’t be mended
I could regrow.

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