poem: The Merry Schizo Waltz by Dandelion de la Rue

The face I saw
in the mornings
wasn’t mine
a tighter face
my kin I think
tense, insecure
not quite sure
where to step
or what to say
one that didn’t
smile so easily
or so much.
I might have
liked her better
but something made
me step aside.

This morning I
saw my face again
and glad to see her
so many months away
I watched her
stretching slowly
through the thickly
silky air
the face behind the face
slipping into
old shoe places.
Who was that
other worried one?
She’s gone away.
It’s just as well —
she didn’t
laugh enough.