A Creative Person Loses Themselves

If this is that
then that is this.
The things that go missing
can’t be missed
if they are lost on purpose.

Buried and uneven
six feet under, “forgiven”,
forever hearing the baseboards creek.
Those wooden planks decompose,
a memory grows
more distorted and convoluted.
Dreams, the eyes cannot forget,
even eyelid free.

The missing puzzle piece,
changed and “healed”
the real reminder,
the reflection
in the mirror.

The falsehood
over powers
it’s creation,
lifeless and limp
You will never be, real.

Become a character.
In my life?
Is complete fiction.

2015/01/img_3901.jpg

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