I was not fixed.
I am not real.
I am not full
without all of you, knowing that
in a room full of mirrors I am not the only reflection;
An infinitely sad reflection.
My pseudonyms are a lie when confronted
with an accurate representation of myself.
The coin viciously turns
and cuts ribbons of me.
I cannot understand and it isn't explained.
My questions return with nothing
but confusion as if I am not clearly stating
I need you. I don't feel full
in a room of mirrors alone. We go to the circus
with friends - expect to leave with them
only to be abandoned when we really need
Please don't leave me alone.
I can't stand to be lost
in a room full of myself.