Ambiguity

The thing about being invisible

is that although everyone around you knows you exist

its as if your own body cannot feel itself

we are discussing invisible to other

 But, invisible to ourselves

It’s as if a mirror lied

forgetting to put your face there

a shade pulled over you body, 

hiding the tragedy in the window from the neighbors

Sometimes it’s wonderful

the curtains hide secrets 

that should never be told

other times, the curtains hide stab victims,

only recognized by others once rotting and unable to be ignored

And then you’re uncovered