so god
is this it
what all the casting pearls has been about
not so much the remnants of
some unrequited love,
leftovers of a mother-child bond gone bad
which left me
like alice
seeking validation
in a maze of funhouse mirrors

but some existential angst
that whispers
urgent yearnings to be seen
reassurance that my being here is real
this need for reflection
deflecting fears
that when i look
i will see nothing at all

is this yearning to be captured then
the ageless fear
of death
annihilation leaving nothing in its wake
no remnants of my love leftover
no meaning for my being here
at all

oh god
let it be enough
for you alone
to catch me

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