An embarrassed head

It is the stories we tell ourselves

that blur the boundaries of perception

and reality

it is how we choose to tell these stories

that we rise or fall

in our own estimations

I like to think I am a warm person

full of hugs and cheers

like a cuddly old bear hunting for love

but then I remember an oval head

with ruddy cheeks

that liked to snore in my arms

and hoist herself on top of me

digging into my chest

demanding covalence

and all the bear ever did

was roll away

and break

an embarrassed head’s sleep.

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