i
Madeleine Baran
I hold a steady glare
my eyeballs protruding
from their sockets
holding everything
with a look of scorn.
No, I'm not just
being difficult
for you have not
been me,
trust me,
you don't want to be.
and you, then,
cannot know
and do not fool me,
you,
with your false sympathy
you are worst of all.
I do not need your knowing glances
your shallow embrace
your invading questions
For I am myself
and you are not
come back
when you are me.