No Strings

I did not realize I was living as a stranger

Until I caught a glimpse of myself

He was handsome and slender

Instantly familiar

So different from the doll I inhabited

At first I thought I was merely imagining

A slight distortion in the mirror

Always at the corner of my eye

But once we were acquainted

This peripheral phantom of mine

Increased in frequency

It began strictly private

An affair with myself

Chasing after fleeting moments of recognition

Sneaking out to see him

Longing to hear his voice

I thought I heard myself

Rolling out of bed, my voice thick with sleep

Or coarse and deep with illness

I saw myself in dressing room mirrors

Drowning in a button down

A sock shoved in my pants

I saw myself in my bedroom mirror

Two sports bras and my brother’s shirt

I saw myself in pictures

Angled and filtered

But never shared

As moments melted into months

I increasingly had to tug my own strings

To keep up the charade

Every “she” and “her” an extension of my nose

Like pinocchio,

Longing to be a real boy

It paralyzed me

To imagine a day

That he and I could melt together

But now others see him too

No longer a figment of my imagination

A friend, a lover, a brother,

Every step out of the closet

Brings me closer to myself