Chameleon

Chameleon Nov 2019

I saw myself in beautiful binding.
A hard, solid cover with medieval art
of a girl with blonde hair.
A long sad story lay within the wrinkled pages.
The story of a girl who could never
be happy.

Chameleon Nov 2019

Nov 2

The ground is literally sparkling,
not just
because a light frost
is reflecting off the sun.
I just tip toed into my parents house
with huge pupils and messy hair
wearing someone else’s Halloween shirt
that says, Let’s get smashed.

But at least I wasn’t driving.

Chameleon Oct 2019

Color

I’ll skip the color and just say
that’s it’s nice to have a nice boy
enjoy you.

Chameleon Oct 2019

Forgotten

I am now that girl who
ends up leaving something behind
My shoes, an ear ring, a bra,
and a hoodie.
A half pack of cigarettes and
a Vuse vape pen.
A small amount of ****.
I don’t know when it happened.
After I started drinking more often,
after he left me and I can’t
seem to remember where anything
is anymore.
And after all,
I was left behind too.

Chameleon Oct 2019

Doll

I am a Matryoshka doll.
I carry many different versions
of myself around,
each making appearances
now and then.
I don’t even realize when I transform
until I begin to avoid things
to protect whichever stage I’m in.
Right now I am big, good at deflecting and
putting on a smile with
my mascara.
The small one that’s weaker;
scared
is
deep inside.
Safe.

Chameleon Oct 2019

Got it

Last night was an example of
how it’s still there.
He didn’t feel like eating
so I blessed a few slices and put
some pizza aside for him.
But he didn’t want me to leave,
so we watched March of the Penguins
on the couch in the old spooning position.
I was falling asleep but I could feel
that he was awake.
His hand searching to pull down
my sweatpants and recreate what
we used to be good at.
And it was really good.
But I’m not falling over drunkenly
in love, I just feel proudly smug
knowing I still got it.