The pretender

Often I sculpt people
Who aren’t there
To create memories that don’t exist
That make me laugh at nothing
Often
Pretend that someone is concerned
That I actually knew you
And that the choir knows my name
At night I imagine
That I smell your hair
I hear you breathe
I slip into your womb
Always
I wake up alone
With a fractured skull
And empty space
Still in my wheelchair
Unable to move
While the diva in my head
Sings long arias
Of self abuse
That I twist into
Lullabies just to survive
In the doctors office
I open the magazine
I fail the happiness quiz inside
While the lady across the room cries