Faces

Quickly reaching for the faces that go in the bag.

Unsure of who you’re going to meet on your way out.

Weighing the options you have before you. You must choose one.

You sift through them. Look at one. Discard the other.

None seem good enough.

You put on the one that would help you when you unexpectedly encounter unwanted acquaintances.

You walk out the door,

And check your bag. All the faces in?

Good. Deep breath.

And, hope to avoid unwanted encounters

With a friend, a family member, or a neighbour.

Walk down the street and you spot a familiar face.

Stress, your best friend, sets in.

You rummage through your bag to see which face to put on.

It’s a family member.

A sigh of relief escapes your lips as you realise you have the right face on.

Your best friend is gone now.

A hundred steps later, you hear your name, and you turn around.

It’s an old friend.

Hi, best friend. Welcome back.

Meet Anxiety, another good friend of mine.

You frantically search through the bag.

Where is it?

You feel a knot being fashioned in your gut.

She’s drawing nearer.

Stop yelling at me Stress!

You’re not helping either, Anxiety!

You hear the word “Hello!”

You respond with the face you were looking for,

And avoided a catastrophic meeting of unknown faces.

Seeing someone who knows one face and not the other would ruin you.

Your companions decide to haunt you home.

You have the same conversation for the umpteenth time.

You cannot do that to me, Stress.

Anxiety, you were supposed to be on vacation!

I was overwhelmed with dread.

I know I have a plethora of them stuffed in my bag.

I don’t know when I’m going to need which face, okay?

You get back home with no other unexpected reunions.

Time to strip off the face and be comfortable.

Time to decide which face brings you the most comfort.

Time to forget about close calls with other faces.

Sigh.

You’ve forgotten which face brings you the most comfort.

You’ve forgotten which face disallows the pretences.

You’ve forgotten which face belongs to you.

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Moulder

Three years gone by,

Like the blink of an eye.

As I sit and reminisce,

I begin to realise all that I will miss.

Commenced with walks in crowded hallways,

A disoriented expression across my face.

Sat on benches with strangers,

Who I shied away from, because of their demeanours,

I clung to the person I knew best,

Too afraid to get along with the rest.

A year went by,

With utterances of hello and goodbye.

These strangers turned to classmates,

Who all had stories to relate.

I opted to adhere to the people I knew,

Hesitant toward anything new,

Came off as arrogant to some,

Oblivious about the obstacles we were yet to overcome.

In the second year,

The proximity evaporated our fears.

We came together to get a job done,

This was where our coalition begun.

We strolled through the hallways,

Everything was a haze.

Bonds were made, too late,

As our time together began to fade.

The last few months have been a roller coaster of emotions,

As our lives are set in motion.

We sit in benches with more than just strangers,

With people who are more than just backbenchers.

I begin to regret,

Not acquainting myself sooner with those who I met.

I let the memories stay with me,

While we go our separate ways, and be free.

But, I will always remember,

The English Department, that was our moulder.

Missing Piece

We all look for someone to complete us. 

But being aware of ourselves,

Seems to be the only thing worth searching for. 

Would having someone in our lives, 

Give our lives meaning?

Would our lives finally be complete? 

This missing puzzle-piece we all seek

Seems to be causing carnage in our lives. 

This special someone, we all seek, seems to be causing us to scrutinize situations,

Sending us into a state of affliction.

Would being unaccompanied, and finding solace in that,

Be that bad?