The Accumulated Whole

Switch the screen
to reflect something new.
Does anyone ever see?
A transparent mirror, me?

Of course you’re told, you’re shaped, you’re molded
(In what image?)
But does it stick?
It probably does.
After all… What do you care?
It is only your life.

And the smoke fills your eyes,
The water fills your lungs.
You drown and burn…
at the same time.

The soundtrack of my life. The words of someone else.
(With a little readjustment,
and a little disregard)
Fit my life.
Define me.
(But, imperfectly).

I write my own,
but they are weak,
(And won’t be heard).

So sing my truth.

Switch the screen.