I’ve stood naked as child, amongst the silverware in my father’s house/stuffing enough hot peaches down my parted lips,/molases plunging in obscure drabs towards the linoleum tiles./If my heart was an iceberg, /how come it froze so slowly/locking a part of myself (you, you, you) /out, like salt from crystalline water --- i wrote this and it reminded me too much of your writing. I find it hard to have my own voice.

This flows so nicely and the word choice is great, but the switch from the molasses part to the “heart as an iceberg” metaphor is very abrupt and there’s honestly nothing at all connecting the two.

Also, I don’t think this sounds like my writing at all, so don’t worry!