am i dreaming this bathtub

a sin.
akin to trouble,
is our most honest moment.
we are absent
and pale and earnest
too often.

that was a poem i wrote when i was in 8th grade poetry class. was i rushed when i wrote it or did i struggle with it? did i close my eyes and wait for a word to appear? was i trying to sound like someone else or myself? i don't know. i forget. 8th grade poetry class. i started loving the sound and shape of words around that time. everyone in that class was so self-aware that they became narcissistic. and who am i to judge that. i was the same way. but poetry was a strange new thing for me and every word had a feeling.