Who am I? Who is she?
What's behind Is she more than the
my eyes? Shame in her eyes?
I painted The fear that
A self-portrait Keeps her hiding.
See, it's hanging The rotting stench
in my room In her soul
A secret room. A life of lies
I've pulled it down And mishapened truths
(Did I let it be ripped down?) Have distorted her view
Here it lays, shattered Cross-eyed
Pieces. Pieces. Pieces... With selective hearing
Not of me! But of a She sews her broken pieces
Beautiful brokenness Together with empty words
Who shall reconstruct And pointing fingers
The contours of my soul When will she remove
And patterns of my identity The No Tresspassing Sign
In my heart? From her heart?