by Morgan Chalfant
It hurts to see you still have no ability.
You can’t make decisions for yourself.
Individuality was torn out of reach,
hidden on someone else’s shelf.
You’re a doll, a marionette on strings,
a mannequin posed in place.
If you had the choice of what to look like,
you’d let someone else choose your face.
What do you call your personality,
when the ‘person’ you are isn’t you?
If I asked you what to bury you in,
you’d answer, “He told me I want blue.”
About the Author:
Morgan Chalfant is a writer, poet, gamer, and an instructor of writing at Fort Hays State University. He is a native of Hill City, Kansas. He is the author of the urban fantasy novel, Ghosts of Glory. You can find him on Instagram: @eyesonly34.