Frail, as the quiet I keep I look away. Distracted by gum stuck to my shoe. I confess, it seemed oddly convenient To step on gum just as something remarkable Called for my attention. As if my whole life were an intervention. Fate has with it, its validation That I was entangled in chaos, dodging encounters without an ounce of reason Arguably the most profound discourse I've ever had with procrastination. So, when I first witnessed it The only assumption I took Was also mistaken. I was gazing at my own reflection. Had been traveling down the same tumultuous path. I peered at this identical version of me And her breath carried the scent of mint. I bet My perspective won't offer a kinder view To elements trying to intrude On the intimate connection Of one with her own emptiness. I much prefer it when everyday annoyances Get recruited by the emotional coach of another team.