director's cut

a poem

each morning i wake up

and put a veil over my face

before i look in the mirror,

and i look like a bride—

like a dream of myself.

✦

but dreams are for the night,

so i take it off before i leave

and put on sunglasses instead,

because the truth is too bright;

and if i look right at it

i might sneeze.

✦

and there’s a bounce in my step at the crosswalk—

just like some blissfully naive

main character in a movie

who doesn’t know the plot is about to get thick;

but in my movie—

the plot already did,

i just dusted off my knees,

cut the scene,

and started again at the crosswalk;

✦

all dressed for success

like i’ve got somewhere to be,

but i’m not actually going anywhere.

not on my way

to work or anything,

i just cross the same road

every day—

so i can at least say i tried

to make it to the other side.

thank you for reading 🖤

em

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