Hitchcockian Poem by Kurt Philip Behm

Hitchcockian



I'm actually tired of being myself…
can I be you for awhile

I hide from the mirror and monogrammed lies,
as I run from an image defiled

I thought I was safe and had made my escape,
when memory reminded again

"You can run, you can hide, your indenture unkeyed
—the chains locked secure in your head"

(The New Room: January,2021)

Tuesday, January 26, 2021
Topic(s) of this poem: chains,january,memory,mirror
READ THIS POEM IN OTHER LANGUAGES
Close
Error Success