I feel like Halloween;
I’m haunted by my own self
nothing makes sense, everything is tense
and I’m too old to hide under the bed
so I choose instead to hide in the costume of myself
so that no one has to see what’s really there,
the damaged parts beyond repair

I am stuck in a place where talking
feels more like trick or treating
where I am guising,
going from door to door
looking for a gift in the form of “hello”
but hello always ends with goodbye
then my tongue is burdened by silence

the costume normally works best
if no one knows I’m wearing it
but if they knew where my mask ends
and my face begins
then I’ve done it wrong
and have to start all over again

but it’s better than having to undress my heart,
wordlessly wait for it to be carved apart
and carry it home a jack-o-latern

© fragilemenace