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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The image of crossing stayed with me. The same side of the road, the same attempt, every day. Sometimes that’s enough to keep the story moving.
So evocative and thought provoking ♥️