Crumpled Costumes

Crumpled Costumes

Tattered and torn,
they fill the whole,
of the room beneath the stairs.

Identities of myself
hidden from the world
in molding boxes.

Yesterday, I added another
as I shook myself free
of who I am not.

And left it there
with all the others
underneath the stairs.

Someday I will find the one
that fits me perfectly
and toss out all others.

The ones that are ragged,
discolored, and faded
images of myself.

Will find themselves
a permanent home
in the dark beneath the stairs.

These costumes,
identities I have worn,
while lying to myself.