Lost in the Funhouse

You tell me I make it your burden,
insecurities you branded in my brain.
I fear the voices I’ve spent years
trying to quell are back with a vengeance,
taunting me to try just to lose.
Still, your words sing louder than the
angel and devil debating from my ears.
You say you blame me because you hate
yourself, but you can’t see the role you
played in it all. My head aches as you
affix a funhouse mirror to my mind,
manipulate the way I see myself until
it’s just as distorted as your love.
You call the dysmorphia you caused
inconvenient cus’ to you, that’s all it is.
Slowly, I descend into madness
trying to outrun your trickery.
Now I have lost myself in the funhouse
and I don’t know which reflection is me.


First appeared in Hedge Apple Magazine (Labyrinth 2025)