I love the idea of being a character.
The idea of maybe I don't even exist, I'm just a figment
of someone's imagination.
Don't you find it intriguing
that someone wanted to know you so bad that
they took a thread of random thought
and sharpened grey cells into
needles, then stitched you
careful, so delicate?
They shaped every finger, meant to hammer out
words on a screen
and gave every strand of your hair its own personality
and identity
of the kind of castle children bounced
on at birthday parties
and they said I want her lips
to be just so, I don't care if they're out of sync
with her nose, these lips are going to be hers, these hips are
going to be her and
she's going to be more
than what she looks like just
because she is
so much more than what can be mapped out
in skin and bones.
and then I, all created, am
doing things inside their
head that makes them not want to be real either.
Don't you find it intriguing?
Don't you?
