Molting

As the hermit crab haphazardly shed

what he once was—

so did I.

A shell of my former self

seemed to covet the asylum that used to contain me.

It no longer seems to serve me.

How do we forgive ourselves for all the things

we did Not become?

Lost opportunities fizzled into the distance

coupled with the forgone shell.

I molt in parallel to the hermit crab,

continuing on while leaving behind

what I used to be.