In a past life, I was nameless — 

    meet, forget, meet, 
    forget, meet,
   
Now, you look at me intensely 
      —  I hope intently — 
and bare your scars while I hide
behind banter and overused words,
            in songs that could compose 
            some sense of self or speak 
            to every sensitivity, then
            under an unabashed cat
            and the once-white blanket,
            quietly trembling, 
                     terrified of 
​
    find, lose, find,    
    lose, find, lose, 

but trying 
to cradle this moment