Sometimes I feel like I am a lie.

Not my life, but myself.

Looking into the mirror I see…

            Past the small-lipped grin

            Past the curious eyes

What

Am

I?

I am a girl slowly, steadily

            dripping

                        down

                                    the

                                                page

A new character every night.

I don’t want to be a new character every night. (I want to be a new character every night.)

 

They hear the words coming from my lips, listen to the laughs; I am the Cheshire Cat. 

What am I hiding from? What  am I keeping hidden, in a fortress forged by my own smile?

 

I don’t know. (I know, I know).

 

One day the fortress will come crashing down.

My fake smiles will be gone.