Man With A Thousand Faces Poem by Axley Jade Blaze

He was Jesus, and he was Judas.
And perhaps there was a third, a baby Joelle.
And maybe even a sliver of an intelligent, sophisticated woman
Judith, or a beautiful, young ingenue called Juliette, sometimes, a man, a dandy named Juan.
What is the fine line between 'different moods'—versus a unique personality separate from the one before it?
Because he was so many things, many people, and soon he seemed to be a whole society.
And, his dissociation was my own.
His fragments, breaking me.
His illness was like ingesting an addictive, potent hallucinogen.
And before I knew it, he was a country, a nation, a planet.
Which can make a person seem like God, sometimes—appear divine.
That type of human being;
So special. So rare.
A person who consumes all of you, every inch, every fiber.
You believe you've found all the answers,
It can make you believe they may be God.
Love is God.
And then getting out seems like death.
The breaking up, apart, hell.

© copyright 2019-2024 Man With A Thousand Faces Nicole D'Setttēmi