Alice Would Not Have Made it Out of the Hole Without Help From Her Friends

You show up

Blowing smoke rings

And making light in the dark

Like my all-knowing caterpillar,

Full                                                                 

Of intelligent euphemisms

Cleverly

Designed

To make a Type-A Class-1 White Girl named Alice

Forget you’re a bug

And think you’re a butterfly.

 

I have found the answer to “Who am I?”

It is when I realize

How funny it is

- That I can’t find my teacup -

That I suddenly need

To get out of this car -

Telling myself I must be

In a dream.

 

We say Goodbye.

Now I am alone with the answer to “Who am I”,

But it is the question(er)

That makes the answer exist.

This poem is about: 
Me
Poetry Terms Demonstrated: 

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