Micro reflections

Chipped nails, seeds of anxiety, warm glow of pre-sleep.

Small bubbles of microcosms,

Floating to the surface,

Full of unplumbed depths

Full of what could have beens, what should have beens,

Threatening to burst in a stream of sighs and regrets

Of moments that would have been

If not for fear of the unknown, fear of becoming independent,

Disinherited, cast away.

The ship has sailed from port a while ago,

Not smooth sailing, 

Brushing against memories best left in the deep,

Bumping into monsters of self-doubt and loathing.

But it has arrived, slowly into a port of quiet revelry.

Chipped nails, seeds of victory, warm glow of hope,

Small bubbles of microcosms,

Forming and sinking within,

Full of complex desires,

Full of what have beens, what was lived,

Threatening to fizzle in complacence and deja vu

Of moments well earned, peace achieved at last.

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