I’m on a creative tear right now, y’all. This makes 25-days straight of posting a poem on here and only because I must have missed one day awhile ago. I hope you enjoy it and keep liking and commenting. It means a lot to me.

I’m not really this skin suit that you see with human eyes.
I know it’s real convincing but the illusion is all lies.
You’re not this thing either—This bag of flesh and bones,
You’re cosplaying as human. You discover this alone.
I wrote a song once about being a doormat when I’m dead.
I tried to explain to my Aunt it’s up to them instead.
What they would do with my remains. They’ve never quite been me.
I am so much more than this imagined visage that you see.