Craven

Familiarity has its uncanny essence,
Like patchwork sewn by your mother.
In swatches you like, patterns you know.

Tap across the bareness of your skin
Masked in dainty finery of affinity.
Every dot, every freckle
Resembles a birthmark: all familiar.

You're a ballerina's glissade, aching to find ground
Forever in an effortless rhythm (you know you will)
These grounds know you too well, don't they?

Dig deep with claws and grasp onto hope.
You're a ballerina's glissade, aching to find ground
Rebranded and new now.
Do you still find ground? (un)familiar.

Familiarity still has its uncanny essence:
It smells, nay reeks of home. 
How long have you been here, craven?

You barely ever move now,
Roots crept in too deep.
Rest assured, 
It's all still fear. No, familiar.

Shanum closely resembles a raccoon, send her reasons to cut down on caffeine at shanumsarkar18@gmail.com