March 8, 2020 Challenge
Porcelain Ego
Nails press into the edge of an eye
The skin can scream like I can’t
A circle of blood tinkers on the edge of an iris
An acceptable reply
With the efficiency of a bullet
I blink ruby truths onto the doll cheek by cheek
Each drop a clownish blush
Upsetting her store-bought story
My little porcelain ego, the separation
Between a Self and a pretty lie
Photo by Claire Ward
The Author
Brandyce Ingram is a writer, tutor, and jazz-head in Austin, Texas. Her work has appeared in The Esthetic Apostle, Sand Hills Literary Magazine, OxMag, Cathexis Northwest Press, The Write Launch, Chaleur Press, and elsewhere. She believes Jupiter is the lovable despot of the Milky Way, Lisa Simpson should be granted homo sapien-ship, and cats are alien gods.
Author's Commentary
The ego is a fragile entity, the best-kept secret of human lies. We can't help but cry over feeling fraudulent in a world that asks us to assume varying levels of identity that can be "sold" or "bought" in the marketplace that is human connection. This poem is about the frustration of bouncing between variations of the Self. The sadness of having to do so. The anger that comes from being split in two.