The creature soaking in waves of discomfort

Has a go-to pose of legs in an extended stretch

And arms folded straight across flat chest.

Shoulders in tight and neck angled to stare at his subject.

At me.

This of course is a foundational block

In his effort to exude nonchalance

But I can’t decide if it’s working.

His hair is creeping down in his neck in two lines

That aren’t growing to fullness yet.

The look in his face is one that is cruel to me.

His invincibility and my invisibility…. What a pair.

I can’t reconcile

My reflection in the red morning light

With the person everyone saw last night

Do I know myself?

I can’t reconcile

The memories I play back

With the words when he talks smack

Sometimes the old me doesn’t know…. me

Thank you for reading this poem on being a target and questioning yourself. Here is another poem of mine for you to check out.

…BRD…

I write poetry, prose, and personal pieces. All images are mine unless indicated otherwise. Feel free to leave feedback on my work anytime; I hope you enjoy.

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