And I am Who?

Hand me a brush, sit me down at your vanity table. I will not object. Let me experiment.

Feel the tension in the bristles, gently gliding across my coarse skin. Powder clinging to my flesh.

If I so try - and I assure you I will - allow me to make this a satirical affair. You may trust in me or not, but allow me to believe that you feel I am trying to be a comic.

The bubbling laughter that surfaces between your beaming cheeks will soften the blow of my uncertainties. It’s warmth melting my timid thoughts, distorting them until I can no longer interpret them myself. It will give me a purpose. I will know how to act, as a jester in court. Merely to entertain.

It’s ok now. I have convinced myself. This is all just fun and games! I severed the hand of wonder that lay taught around my neck. Breathe deep, they will resurface soon.

Hand me a towel, share a laugh with me. I will not object. I cannot object. I have placed it as the truth. As true as the flesh upon me. The flesh I so wish I felt ever so closer to.