This is the real me.
Here. Look closer. Come closer.
I still don’t…
Shhhhhhhhh. That’s right… get camel toe to moose knuckle— fit my weft like a jigsaw puzzle.
Don’t be afraid. It’s just me… whomever I may be. Peer into my pothole, through my layered leagues of liquid static; if you can; that is, if your eyesight’s better than mine. Maybe you can tell ME who I am.
*blink blink blink*
I didn’t mean to put you on the spot. Or maybe my breath displeases… it isn’t my intent to offend. Don’t worry, I don’t want your undivided attention; but I’m allowing myself to be opened. This isn’t what anyone expected. Yet, it’s me to the core.
Only serves the dishonest…
But, that’s the…
Only thing we know?
… I’m stumped.
A stump gathering all the moss. Ha ha… I see now… that’s the real you! Now… tell me… how do I look through a filter of bark and lichen?
Is that an insult?