Where I hesitate, not what I discard

Body and mind
words and images
relationships and thoughts
other people's eyes

if I strip away one layer at a time from my life
will my core remain where everything is shed.

or maybe
the hand that chooses what to let go of, that hand is already me.
my standards, my perspective, my taste.

what falls away easily isn't mine
and what I hesitate to erase might be where I'm buried.
and rather than remembering what I throw away,
I should remember where and why I pause.

my most honest face, I want to meet you soon.