Faux

Fred1794

I am sure with time, 

when all of the stagefright

is perfectly channeled into my role,

(perhaps i will only feel it when i become him)

 

then it will become easier. 

 

For now, I am sorting and catagorising,

and reorganising

and reorganising

and I can only speak when it is all in order. 

 

My mind wanders to the manufactured closeness, 

the fictional familial bond, replacing the feeling of speaking with a stranger, 

not just the person themselves, 

but the role they embody. 

 

I am taken back to The Great Architect, 

how he towered over me, 

the bond of a party, 

the shared table, 

the distance,

the sunset bathing you in a blue orange glow. 

 

I know enough about myself now to know that these butterflies are merely the result of method acting,

but my stomach twists when i think about how I percieve the word, Brother. 

 

I am taken back to under the blanket, 

in a car, or a tent, or a house, 

she was always “Lisa” 

and I was always “Jack” 

they were siblings. 

it is worth mentioning,

that “Lisa” was also the name of her mother. 

 

I had forgotten this aspect of it, until I found myself embodying my role, and my brother told me to stand near him. 

 

It feels, embarrassingly, like safety. 

It feels, worse, erotic. 

 

With time I know it will fade, 

but tomorrow is not time enough, 

I feel uneasy in my chest,

and a closeness in my throat. 

  • Author: Fred1794 (Offline Offline)
  • Published: September 17th, 2025 20:32
  • Comment from author about the poem: Themes of a fetish perhaps... distance with acquaintances whom you feel attached. Mentions of childhood sexual trauma. Excuse me.
  • Category: Erotic
  • Views: 14
  • Users favorite of this poem: rawaneigh.99, rebellion_in_sanity, Paul Bell
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Comments +

Comments6

  • rawaneigh.99

    well written

    • Fred1794

      Thanks!

    • Fína Elara 🌙 Petra Patrice

      A compelling exploration of memory, identity, and unease. Nicely written.

      • Fred1794

        Thank you very much.

      • sorenbarrett

        Tension can be felt in this poem that speaks of past trauma and loss. Nicely done

        • Fred1794

          Thank you :)))

          • sorenbarrett

            You are most welcome

          • rebellion_in_sanity

            Stunning work. Don't know what else to say.

          • Paul Bell

            I suppose life is the greatest role we play, and how we interact with others and how others perceive us.
            Closeness to acquaintances who in essence we spend as much time with loved ones.
            I like how you go darker, asking questions.

          • NafisaSB

            the trauma is well depicted in a veiled manner - well done..



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