a split sense of self

sometimes i stay in the darkest corners of the room,

between the sliver of space where my two shadows meet.

here, they blend into a singularity, a fusion of my competing

superlatives. this is where the light does not reach me,

where it cannot expose me for my incongruences. in this

i am but two sides of the same coin — you flip me to find

my tail ambiguous in value, my head as blank as cold static.

but conforming is what i do best, and i contort my body to fit

into the littlest corners, fleeing to my refuge with abandoned

rays nipping at my heels. luminous laughter trails to my ears,

taunting me relentlessly as i play this inane game of coin flip

over and over, each time desperate for a different outcome.

my shadows place their bets as to when i’ll brave the light but

odds are, this seclusion will claim me before the coin lands.