Around this time last year,
an old friend met me,
and saw too many wrinkles in my brain
“You have a lot of issues, don’t you”

Tides and waves, of action, and of reaction,
break themselves onto the skin.
They slip by; Too quick to be caught,
by the unacquainted eye.

Ask me what’s on my mind,
And I’ll answer that it’s a lot of things.
Ask me then, that of all the noises,
“which is the loudest”

Sit long enough, and I’ll confess everything.
Of the ever fear of wrinkles,
and my secret want of more.

Sit, and watch my multitudes,
till they become common knowledge

Sit, and I’ll tell you,
that my biggest conflict
is that there is only one of me;
A vessel far too small,
to hold so much contradiction.