My past pretense begs one to wonder
if I should change my name ?
It is a proper noun
scuffed, scraped, and scrubbed,
but proper nonetheless.
I am “I am” when I am her
and her when I am not myself.

Explain myself ?

I cannot explain myself, sir,
for I’m not myself, you see.
Since the lagomorphs lair
I’ve been Carrollinian.
Following blind guides
to eat and drink.
The repercussions are concussive
in this mirror where there is a madness.
A fun house where I do not fit.

Her idillic third eye I’ve sewn shut.
Visions obscured by needle and dread.
Scrape the cornea to cut the string,
this hellish pain is why we reach for heaven !
Healing hiatus in His name.

His … name ?

Does a heart never evolve ?
I say unto you, Nay !
It only heals.

He calls me daughter,
for the love of God, be clean.
Remove the collected corrosion
and place the key in the lock
to a new lagomorph lair.

It always fit but must be clean.

Doubt angelic heavenly nature endures ?
I say unto you, Nay.


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