I am lost in metaphor

I am lost in metaphor

A chameleon

The illusion of self

A mantle, worn well

To disguise the lack

Of substance

Indecision

A plague of destructive

Blowflies

Crowding

Over dead flesh

Black crows

All in a row

Witness to the kill

Greedy for such ceremony

A procession

Of failed disguises

Can provide

Cast off

Redundant

Snakeskin

Too easily outgrown

As an excuse

For maturity

Peel back the layers

There is humanity

Hidden between seams

Not so tightly sewn

As once they were

Stretched to breaking

Weathered by repeated exposure

Shrink wrapped

No longer fit for purpose

Even in a drying wind

There is water damage

Not restricted

To the margins

The body of work

Has been undone

Too little known

Of its originality

Which may not be

Worth a grain of salt,

When my truth

Hidden so many

Years ago

Remains unfound.