The impostor
How lonely
Surrounded by people I spend the hours and days hiding from.
A man who is kind, but I am afraid.
Can feel me itching to shed this skin and reveal my true unapologetic self dressed in fire and sequins with their many mirrors of disillusion reflecting & deflecting.
Snaking secret fears and aspersions thorough the maze that is the scaffolding around my mind.
Trust no one believe in everyone.
That balance.
I am reckless I am unpleasant that is my safe place. To be this kind and passive substitute infuriates me in times of stillness,
I recoil at her vulnerability, I want to cut her tongue out and discard her soft words from my memory.
Don’t let her be me, don’t let her speak for me as she is a lie, and in this disgusting shadow is where I should hide?
I want to be me. That balance.
this impostor is fraud. Packaged perfectly to be adored and stroked like a pet, slave to her master.
That is not me. when did I become so weak.?
It’s easier to tuck myself into a ball, no sharp edges to hurt your soft hands.
But like a helix I shall expand, I am heavy hearted. Too many of them perhaps. They’ve becoming malignant, infected, disfigured, disgusting and bitter.
Who is this fake? it’s not me it’s not me it’s not me!
I am cruel and unyielding. Stop pretending.
