identity
I am more than my crime,
I am more than my crime,
I had to say it twice,
Because if I’m lying, I’m dying.
Patching up holes in “old” drywall,
Sanding down all that lies rough,
Painting over mistakes with white paint…
Left me with a “spot” of new.
My life is like a notebook filled with empty pages
Bitter words and blank statements
I stare at the pages and try to picture
What should go in these spaces
Why is it that when I’m happy
They seem mad
Why is it when I smile
They look sad
I look in the mirror
And wonder if it’s me that they see