The Bone Writers
By Jesi Scott
All you see is what you think I am,
No more than that.
And you think I don’t understand
So you talk of things in front of me
Never knowing I hear what you say
And understand what you don’t,
The invisible mask you think you wear
Reflected only too clearly
To those who see you as you really are.
We live through each other,
A ripple effect with pebbles
Thrown from ghosts in the shadows,
Lives entwined into a miasma,
Where I begin and you end,
My face on your mask,
Both of us on display
In a world that reads our epitaphs
On our foreheads.