Hitchcockian

January 26, 2021

I’m actually tired of being myself…

can I be you for awhile

I hide from the mirror and monogrammed lies,

as I run from an image defiled

I thought I was safe and had made my escape,

when memory reminded again

“You can run, you can hide, your indenture unkeyed

—the chains locked secure in your head”

(The New Room: January, 2021)

Something wrong with this poem?

Replies are closed for this poem.

See what makes your poem unique — its voice, energy, themes, and the literary traditions it draws from.

Comments (0)

No comments yet. Be the first to share your thoughts.