The Re-inventor

I’m not going to kill you:
it’ll just feel that way.
You will grieve as though
saying your good-byes
to the world at large
as well as to each aspect
of whoever you thought
you were.

From the support beams
to the splinters and finishing
nails, I will dismantle you
until all that remains
is the ground upon which
was built so many façades.

And you will not recognize
yourself of course—
you will not realize that
all along, the constructs
of your identity were not built
on the dirt, but that you
were the dirt itself.

You were not what you created
and then discarded when it
became irrelevant. You were
what was buried beneath
all of that rubble. And rubble
is all it ever was.

Unburdened, you will hereafter
be a willing paradox, both
unremarkable and special
at the same time.

Claire Juno, © 2013