Just call me Ms. Spud

my accessories are my expressions,

they depend on my situation

or my companion.

Ms. Spud exchanges my smile,

swaps out my eyes.

She's casting on characters to only one actor.

suppressing,

i am

censoring,

it’s stifling hot inside

myself

dark and empty, void of substance

What a laugh!

since i am always burning with

masquerade faces.

 

 

to show or to hide

i may never decide

quick!

switch!

now her lips stay fixed,

shrink-wrapped in plastic

color coded to match

the devised emotion.

these arms of mine curse

as they twist behind, ever-reaching, for the knife protruding

from my last reveal.

tight-lipped Ms. Spud simpers

plays it up, when inside

i am injured

does Ms. Spud have a true face,

when i’m made up of spare parts.