i mythmake myself out of my body,
write myself ghostly and etherealized
like the last crown of light in the dusk.
i am anywhere there is air, sharp.
i am anywhere there is space, cold.
i am made up of nothingness,
slipping through fingers, sunlight;
drafting through rooms, threadbare.
i make myths out of my body,
translate flesh and bone and ache into allegory;
the alchemy of self-sublimation.
i turn my head lofty and disdainful,
i turn my hands trickster, fool, and changeling,
i turn myself as twins, or prince, or bird,
sometimes witch or queen or knight,
sometimes sun and stars and moon.
but who am i when all that’s left of me are these?
when i have cast my glamour with a turn of phrase
and left the hollow core?
and who am i when they come to mistake me
and i have violets in my mouth, not words?
Lara Grauerholz-Fisher is a Gemini with ADHD, which manages to sneak into everything that she writes. Her poetry has previously been featured by Bottlecap Press. You can find her on Tumblr and Twitter at @alouettesque.