I am not really a player,
just someone who’s come to know
that if you take yourself seriously
life quickly turns to a foe.

I do what I can to make things light
mine is the only life I keep in sight
there are so many of me, and sometimes we fight
about who is wrong and who is right.

And I can tell you –
it’s hard enough keeping track of all those me –
one wants to write or to draw,
the other wants to pee.
Speaking of peeing,
which reminds me of my kids,
their growing creative demands and
biological needs.

Then there’s work, and the big project
that’s been in the making for some time now,
It looks it’s finally coming through,
and it scares me somehow.

With you I still can’t tell
if you are quite aware of the well
so deep and so wide, flowing on the inside,
or whether you want to know
just one of the many me’s
I have lurking up my sleeves.

Maybe the one who is fun,
daring, with sex appeal,
happy to be at your will?
Or the one with the Moon rising in her eyes
calling for initiation, leading to demise.
Intense but not as forgiving as the one before,
She never needs to know.

In place of tattoo she wears a burn mark
and is good at keeping herself in the dark,
so… no worries there…
She doesn’t care.

Not long ago you did extend
a kind offer to be a friend.
Not sure if you were at ease,
or just trying to appease…
but it’s confusing to all my me’s.

So I gotta ask you real nice
to think about what it implies
you can’t go wrong or right,
it’s like choosing a weapon for a fight.
Or, for a writer, it’s like picking the right font,
you gotta know which one you want.

Do you know which one you want?


Photography by Nikolina Petolas

Alien, alienated. That's me.

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