forward / foreword
Masks We Wear Challenge Entry

Mother f-
Mother f-
Mother f-
through my mask—
feel my seethe
my teeth grate
like chalk
on a board,
aluminium
against bare fists.
feed me
need me
knead me
squeeze—me;
per—fo—ration,
ex—peri—mentation,
trepanning,
the divining.
Drain me,
bleed me,
tilt me
forward / foreword
prologue, epilogue, epicentre,
epigraph, epitaph—no sequel
so—sexual-our language
thee language,
out out,
hark hark harp harp,
art art, tarp tarp—covering,
my face, my body—protects
identify—or—identity
ident card, ID card
technically—replication.
~
Sometimes I’m drowning
| repeat “Sometimes” — I’m falling
| repeat — I’m surviving
| repeat — I’m failing
| repeat — I’m repelling
| repel / yell — I’m excelling
~
I am all that I am and more
All that I've ever been
and yet, more
~
The walls fail to close
enough around my sense of worth;
to distil the notion
I am but a passenger
in a wounded corporeal vehicle
of devastation and desolation
Will you follow me—into the storm
as my mask is off—and my guard is down
*
Thanks for reading!
Author's Notes: Compared to yesterday, 14th, today, 15th, was clearly a creative day. This is a completely new entry for the Masks We Wear challenge.
Here are some other recent things by me:
About the Creator
Paul Stewart
Award-Winning Writer, Poet, Scottish-Italian, Subversive.
The Accidental Poet - Poetry Collection out now!
Streams and Scratches in My Mind coming soon!
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