facsimile



i hate the eyes like razors, 
passing sentence on skin, 
scrutinizing, 
something that doesn't belong to it. 

i hate the ski mask.
i hate that i feel like i tuck myself away into a closet
before I get in the car
and drive away
with someone who isn't really 
me

i am the liar.
i am the facsimile of someone
who looks a lot like me
someone who wears my clothes
and my lipstick
and uses my 
name.

I'm not really here,
not really.
I'm somewhere
else.

I'm watching from the narrow windows alongside the front door,
as my car pulls away with the assembled version of a person
who is scared of the light from
her own soul.

I am going to take a pair of scissors one day
and cut up this ski mask
one day.

one day the shadow,
the ghost,
will be in the closet.
instead of
me.

because shadows don't need air to breathe
and i do.

i'm pounding on the other side of the door,
asking me
to let myself 
out.

[please.]

one day.

[today]







4 comments:

  1. *screams internally* THIS IS BEAUTIFUL!!!

    ReplyDelete
  2. This made me cry. Thank you for sharing this. Thank you for this blog. Thank you for your courage, your vulnerability, to share your struggles and in that show others that they are not alone. This is a beautiful place. Thank you for it.

    ReplyDelete

Instagram