my shoe house

the house of warmth and loneliness

souls tied to the soles 

of me, and the other me

a calmer, kinder version of me

she tells me poetry and braids my hair

tucks a lily behind my ear

my house has no mirrors

she says my beauty needs no proof

in the morning i brew tea, 

as she gazes at the city

the city is cruel, it will seperate us

you must never go there, i tell her. 

she disappears for hours one day

comes back in distress

she claims to have been nowhere

inside your flesh i lie, she says

but she lies, because she is me after all

i tear my flesh open, she sews it back

then she tells me poetry

but she tells it wrong

and braids my hair but pulls too tight

she tucks a lily behind my ear with shaky hands.