Who Are You Behind That Door?

I am nothing

            A pair of eyes stuck on the ceiling

            No, stuck on the light fixture

            No, maybe the moon

            Either way, the blinds are 

            still down.


I am something

            New, improved, glued  back on

            A bit unraveled, a bit tied together

            Twirling my hair, rubbing fibers 

            Against fibers and leaving the bad

            Parts of myself chewed on eraser 



I am anything

            Costume peeled off like a skin,

            Repeating songs five times over

            Hanging my body up to dry

            And coping with it,

            Maybe celebrating quietly

            Maybe curating, retroactively

            a rambunctious image.

Kallen Mohr

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