New Year, new eyes, new skin -- A poem

I am a snake
Slinking out of my old skin.

Maybe that is what I am doing.
A very slow, awkward process.

Some of it clings to me like wax
As I squeeze through tight places to work it off.

When it's off I will be at home in this cluttered universe.
This image of me as snake is only a means

To get through this weird period of metamorphosis.
There is a ton going on,

But maybe it all boils down
To only a few important things after all.

Things that only new eyes can see.
My skin will shine.

(Article changed on January 4, 2018 at 02:16)