Helena sent this to me one night via email. I had to share. So many of us have been in this place…
Written by Helena Hann-Basquiat
Blink and you’ll miss me
Turn away and I’ll be gone
What am I?
This isn’t a riddle
it’s an identity crisis that for lack of a mirror
finds me pulling apart all the creases in my brain, licking my fingers
and picking up the dust in the corners
for some scrap of evidence that I am real and not just imagined,
dressed up for your enjoyment.
Somewhere behind the makeup behind the glamour behind the fabrications
is a heart that won’t let you touch it
a face that doesn’t want to be seen
a sickness that runs from the cure
and if you see me out of the corner of your eye
I might not be what you expect.
Will you turn and point a finger?
Call me fraud?
Smash all my mirrors?
Wipe off my lipstick; call it obscene?
Reach out to touch me grasp nothing but air.
Look for me in my usual haunts, I’m not there.
What am I?
What am I?
What am I?
HASTYWORDS 
“Reach out to touch me grasp nothing but air.
Look for me in my usual haunts, I’m not there.”
These lines are a perfect summation of what everyone eventually feels when they realize what the world actually is. Very well written.
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this could be me.
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Oh but there is beauty and violence here 🙂 I like this one, very much indeed 🙂
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Quintessential Helena.
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A very powerful poem!!
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Thank you for posting this, Hasty. I need to get writing again. Instead, I’m doing all kinds of publishing stuff. NO FUN
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i’m often asking myself a similar question!
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together you two might just implode the world
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Awesome stuff, Helena. Thanks, Hasty.
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This is stunning.
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