Costumes

in this life

that doesn’t fit her

she slips in and out

of costume

the intellectual

professional

advocating, teaching

smartly skirting

the absence of her profession

toeing a brightly painted

barricade

the suburban

divorcee

in need of extra cash

burning moonlit

candle at both ends

concealing needs

beneath

lauded patience

and efficiency

the exiled

brood mother

conjuring

aspartame-free

nestings

repeatedly booting

cowbirds’ parasitic

resentment eggs

the “call me at any time

I’ll be there to listen,

stage an intervention,

bake or hold your hand,

give you painful truths

to which you won’t listen”

friend

defriended

defrauded when she

calls collecting

attempting to

befriend herself

the partner

flawed and hurtful

hurting

unmoored

awash in

earsplitting

silent recrimination

treading water

on industrial carpet

the woman

defamed and defiled

vilified and reviled

shedding sackcloth

and incendiary ashes

standing naked

before herself

in harsh or

compassionate

scrutiny

3 thoughts on “Costumes

  1. We put on many different outfits throughout the day, and the only time we ever take these facades off, is when we are all alone, sitting, in front of our separate dresser mirrors, then, that, would be when we feel most comfortable, letting our true selves show, as no one outside of us is there, to judge us…

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