i forged this
identity through
tear soaked
pillowcases and
blood stained
mattresses,
through
days when god
never showed
herself.
i found myself
in places where
love and heartbreak
walk hand in hand.

this one face
is all
i have.

it is inadequate
to you.

you and your
many faces, all
so polished, all
so believeable.

you line them up
on your dresser
at night, beside
meaningless
objects that
bring you
comfort.

you think i am
the weak one.

you accepted
whatever identity
was handed to you.

you are forceless-
a marionette doll,
they will all
pull the strings
and watch you
dance.

you are
lifeless.

you
laid down
and you
died.

1.
You sit on your stoop
And you listen.
You sit on your stoop
And you breathe.
You sit on your stoop
And you take in.
You sit on your stoop
You don't leave.

2.
A car comes down the block and you fill it with ambivalence
There are artifacts of previous tenants in your walls.
Whatever you do you can't stop the faint buzz of the sun
Or the rattling of your morning coffee.
One on one.

3.
One on one you lie back to the marble.
You drift off to sleep in the end.
You can't help you don't look you're unable,
You throw the frog away in the end.
The croak drove you crazy and the tongue made you cringe
But there was something of value...
You don't think, I can't think, in the end.

4.
You squeeze and you pry
You don't listen.
You drag and you moan
You don't breathe.
You curl and you sigh
You don't take in.
You plot and you play
You just leave.

5.
You have anxieties like pop rocks
Once they fizzle down you accept another
Handful.
In the end.
The frogs in the bin but it's ribbit breaks through
And the spread of its tongue still reaches me.