Poetry

They don’t put a face on me.

Just a name.

That feels,

Not my own.

In a place

That feels

Not my home.
“Bethany!”

I turn my head

Like a dog

Who knows her name.

Repetition,

Muscle memory,

Habits 

Of the brain.
I know the me

Inside my soul

Not reflected 

On my outer shell

I know the me

You’ll never know

What a mirror

Never

Tells.

10 thoughts on “Poetry

    1. Even if we let them see they may not be capable. My inside is always visible it is just rare to find someone able to be willing to try and see it.
      I love that when I pray, I know that I am seen and heard for who I truly am.

      Liked by 1 person

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.