Shedding

Happy New Year!
This is the last time I can
live at this house
as a consequence of my
shame.

I think my behavior would
kill me, was this not
the thousandth time I 
berated myself for 
making the same mistake.

I hurt someone again—
this time with control,
with the forked tongue of a 
snake eating itself,
with the winter and perceived
betrayal and actual
betrayal.

Happy New Year!
I don't know where I'll be this time next
year. My wisdom teeth will
be gone and my tits
will be gone.
I don't know what that person 
looks like or feels like.
I don't know what self-actualization
will bring. 

I hope it rips open my
paper skin,
I hope it's 
slash and burn agriculture,
sending 
everything that once was cold
up in flames.
I hope all the past versions of this being
die, 
because I cannot stand to live alongside
my shame.

I hope something better can be built from
this hollow lining, these
bitter ashes.
Happy New Year!