The Lie

Stories of desire
Always seemed
Cloaked in antipathy

Bearing no resemblance to
My reality

Learned too early
I was simply
A Mystery

Just being visible is like
Speaking unintelligibly

A child’s body absorbs
The resulting anxiety

The lie they sold me
Cheap authenticity

Naïve assurances that girls
Can be anything they want to be

Only interrupted
My ability to speak truthfully

About Living outside
Familiar conversation

Beyond imagination
And possibility

Lone anchor
To materiality

Over time
I doused
Entire parts of me

Cold water
Kept that fire
From consuming me

So much of me
Left behind
Even embracing
Non conformity

Sacrificing for the
Shadow of a memory

Still salvaging
My questionable

© 2016 Chris Paige. All rights reserved.


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