Does everyone have these terrifying moments of lucidity?
When that stranger catches you in the mirror
And holds you there as if to say,
"Who the **** are YOU"

And you realize in that moment
In that gaze
That all of you-
Who, and What you are-
None of it has been a choice.
Not yours anyway.

Because this person
Who lives in the world,
The one glaring at you now,
Doesn't reflect who you feel you are.

And the weight of the thing leans into your chest until you're forced to look away.
Head between your knees, fighting for breath.
Fighting for control of this bag of skin and blood and consciousness.
Not because you want to.

It's easier not to fight.

But the guilt of surrender seems too large
So you thrash about always in your head
Beating that stranger down.
Until you can look up, ******, without flinching.