You’re Not Who You Say You Are (poem)

You’re not who you say you are, and you say that’s a lie.

You deny you’re a stranger, though you aren’t recognized.

Disguised as innocence and confusion,

you catalyze the lies you lie as you lie on lilacs that lay beneath a relic of limestone with a crudely carved epithet that is not your name.

You’re not who you say you are, but it isn’t your fault

Your soul is wicked and darkened, shades beyond opaque.

You’re the daughter of someone, we know very well.

You’re the girl who struck matches on her skin to burn us all.

To show us your home, 

Your home in hell.