Published January 15th, 2025
by Carolyn Miller
I'm half alive.
Maybe a little bit dead maybe a little bit alive
I'm the chrysalis that has just emerged out of her shell,
but has not quite made it all the way to be able
to take her first breath and unfurl her wings.
I'm walking, I'm having conversations,
engaging,
but it's not me.
I'm out of my space in time, looking in.
To who I should be, how I should be.
But it's not me
It's a marionette.
Dancing with all the strings pulled up. And tight.
But it's just strings.
Thin bindings that can be snapped and snipped in one heartbeat.
It's a dance to the audience. The applause, wonderful.
For a second –
and then all is still. All lights dull,
and I am left alone on a beautiful stage with an echo that sounds back,
an emptiness of the soul.
I perform. I take off my dancing shoes.
And I am bleeding. But it's okay because I heard the applause.
I heard the love.
For a second.
My encore is brief. But it's my last.
I chisel at my makeup.
Layer by layer, it sloughs off to reveal a face I cannot call my own.
Yet so familiar in a certain light. A ghost that shimmers but at a turn of the head, disappears.
Who am I?
About the Poet
Carolyn Miller resides in Hermanus, Western Cape, South Africa.
Read the poet's biography on Carolyn Miller's Artist Page.
This poem is included in Comet #4,
published in the Wax Poetry and Art Library.
Previously published in South Africa Poetry Magazine:
A Letter to My Father
by Thato Mokgofa
South Africa Poetry Magazine is part of the Wax Poetry and Art Network.
- Visit the main Wax Poetry and Art Submissions Page to see all opportunities.
- Visit the Wax Poetry and Art Library.
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