They don’t put a face on me.

Just a name.

That feels,

Not my own.

In a place

That feels

Not my home.

I turn my head

Like a dog

Who knows her name.


Muscle memory,


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



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

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