THE COSTUME PARTY
- Dark Poets Club
- 11 hours ago
- 1 min read
By Peter Devonald
Deeply uncomfortable
in our own flawed skin
we wriggled, writhed
and slithered
into someone else’s.
It was easier this way,
to pretend,
to make-believe,
a mask on a mask,
to forever be an actor.
Soon we’d forget
who we really were,
lost
in an echo chamber
of other people’s desires.