When we think of "self",
We identify as
I.
Me.
Singular.
But are we really only just one person?
Is I actually plural?
There are different versions of ourselves.
Some versions we trap deep inside in cages
And some we throw on stage to perform every day.

I had a dream last night
and saw a little girl
who looked so much like me
she smiled oh so eagerly
her eyes glistening with joy
her ears red from the cold that was that world
her small hands anxious for my warmth

My heart broke in nostalgia
as I watched the life
in her face
the unbridled naivete
the peace that was her air
And tears flooded my eyes
as I met someone I used to know
a long time ago

How she became a stranger
*How I've become a stranger

Your words are dancing in my mind
As they spread through me
Icing my soul
I'll never be free

Laboring my breathing
They have broken my heart
I'll never love again
Because you ripped me apart

Today I let someone buy me dinner.
Today I let someone say, "you look pretty."
Today I let someone make me laugh
And show me around the city

But because I let you inside of my heart
Years and years ago,
When he leaned in to kiss me as you'd done before
I said "I'm sorry I have to go."

Today was supposed to be good for me
Because I thought I was ready within
When I thought I was going to let you walk out
I invited you back in.

Today I let someone take me out
And my smile became a frown
After all of this time believing I'm healed
Today I let someone down.

Maybe he left
because he got
tired of plucking
splinters out of
his fingers every
time he touched
me because of
the fence I built
around my heart.*


B.S.

Are morning glories sad
because they've never seen the moon?