a split sense of self
sometimes i stay in the darkest corners of the room,
between the sliver of space where my two shadows meet.
here, they blend into a singularity, a fusion of my competing
superlatives. this is where the light does not reach me,
where it cannot expose me for my incongruences. in this
i am but two sides of the same coin — you flip me to find
my tail ambiguous in value, my head as blank as cold static.
but conforming is what i do best, and i contort my body to fit
into the littlest corners, fleeing to my refuge with abandoned
rays nipping at my heels. luminous laughter trails to my ears,
taunting me relentlessly as i play this inane game of coin flip
over and over, each time desperate for a different outcome.
my shadows place their bets as to when i’ll brave the light but
odds are, this seclusion will claim me before the coin lands.