ESCAPISM
by Moriah Parker
like a snake trying to shed its skin.
This body is not my own, and I cannot slither away
from the unspoken truth and wordless fear.
I look in the mirror and see only a stranger staring back.
I look at childhood pictures and see only an unfamiliar smile.
I am haunting and wailing at this body
like a ghost unable to leave the home they died inside.
When were these bones stolen from me?
Why did I become a ghost in this haunted home?
I know the answer.
But it is easier not to say.
I used to lay awake at night wondering what the truth could be.
But if the question needs to be asked, then the answer is already there.
I wonder now, if I will look back at this time,
and be unable to recognize the face staring back.
I wonder who I will be, if I am freed from a body that is not mine.
If I must, I will set fire to this place
and set myself free.
And I do not care what is lost
or left behind.
I don’t recognize the face in the pictures.
What does it matter if they burn?
Moriah Parker is a senior pursuing a dual major with English and Japanese with a minor in Creative Writing. She has a love of poetry inspired by poets such as Li-Young Lee and Mary Oliver and hopes to one day be able to work as a poetry translator while working in Japan.