Beneath my words is my breath,
beneath my breath are my lungs--filled with clouds.
Particles of parts that only I can see,
so I built myself places to keep them,
protected by fragile walls with golden guards.
Imagination fades reality until
I am satisfied with myself.
I curtain life with other life,
while fear seats the audience,
lights begin to blush,
and I hold a script, wishing to freely speak.
I see: floral patterns, laced ribbons, books
They see: solid colors, string, work
I see: copper hair, fair skin, freckles
They see: red, pale, damage
I see: me
They see: someone else