No Face

I wish I could

Be a comedian

Or an actor

Or a dancer

Or a magician

But all of those things

Require my face, in vision.

I’ve never been

In a situation

Where my face

And my appearance

Genuinely didn’t

Influence someone’s

Opinion of my worth

I have had people

Scoff when they

Meet me, friends

Gawk in disbelief

When I make a joke

Or a witty spit or

Something they

“Didn’t expect from me”

Why so surprised?

What was your

Expectation, wait–

Don’t tell me, I

Would rather wonder

The truth is usually

Much worse than my

Anxieties. Besides

My face is the thing

The world has a problem with

So I have remade myself

As a worthwhile, valuable

Faceless entity

This way

No one can

Facetime me

And stop being friends

When they see

How fat my face is


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