This is a new poem. It was somehow inspired by going to see The Dresden Dolls on Halloween. Not quite sure what precisely inspired it; maybe something to do with all the people in masks and costumes.
I paint one hundred portraits of myself
and cut them all to pieces
because those faces are all lies
where’s the darkness?
where’s the anger?
where’s the complexity of me?
I don’t wear my heart on my sleeve
or my sins on my face
every mirror I pass I smash
because those reflections ain’t true
where’s the hatred?
where’s the violence?
where’s the hurting parts of me?
the face in my photographs
is just skin over bone
those blank eyes convey nothing to me
where’s the passion?
where’s the sorrow?
where’s my legacy of trauma?
no image tells my true story
two dimensions is too flat
bursting through those boundaries
i’m real or i’m not there at all
here’s my weariness
here’s my wonder
here’s the whole complicated me