Trick Room

I stare at myself through a display case, Defaming the shape and molds that I hold. Capture my face through a lens, Posting yet another layer that I’ll have to tear. Scripting these dreams so they’re easy to speak, sequenced in panels for the risk of retreat. I document my worth on compliancy, So tell me, please?! What’s my score for the week? I catalog life on things that don’t matter. Lying beneath the veneer of glassy chatter where my forgotten intentions lay splattered.