each morning it dawns on me I am not that fragment of myself I was the previous morning
rebrand and reveal, rebrand and reveal, fall in love with every character I play
I am always murdering and resurrecting every facet of myself
an endless and repetitive series of seeking the light, being the light and rejecting the light
forever I remain The Obscure And Terrifying Great Unknown
nobody recognizes me. little parts of myself keep falling away like this
in helping people forget me, I am always both safe and at risk of vanishing
now watch me materialize into everything you ever wished for, now watch me flake and disappear
this life is but a massive game of Now You See Me Now You Don’t and nobody can ever win
read about Alice in Wonderland shrinking and growing, changing and morphing
read it ten times in my childhood before I realized I am the girl called Alice
if The Looking Glass was a glass prism, I am a ray of white light
I step into the glass only to shatter into seven different people
I am not that fraction of myself you first encountered
when you first glimpsed me glowing, I was only the moon reflecting the light of something else
if anyone tells you it’s not possible to be four-and-a-half people in a day, they are wrong.
can you remember what it’s like to not be losing yourself?
please tell me
I always wonder what it would be like to observe me in a magnificent divergence.

I.
you found a light out by the road.
you named it for a prayer.

II.
you ask me, can you keep a secret?
i’ve been thinking, you say, i’ve been thinking
it’s about time we committed ritual suicide.
and i can keep a secret so i don’t say a thing.

III.
we’ve been collecting roadkill for as long as we can remember.

IV.
look at this, i murmur, look at all the blood.
you’re a mess. you’re a ****** mess.
where are my teeth? you ask through desperate tears.
my pearly whites! my fangs! where are they?
where did you put them?

V.
our lungs full of smoke, you lay by my side.
there’s a fire, i say quietly. come on. time to go.
but you won’t move.

VI.
rosaries of milk around your eyes.
i could have saved you.