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Invisible

I read a book about me and

Caught a glimpse of community.

Humans have always loved seeing our stories reflected back at us:

Then, it was cave paintings on the wall, now it is IMAX 3D.

I get my representation from books.

Hard Cover cradles where ideas are born; words take their first steps and stumble into

sentences, celebrate their birthdays every chapter, and graduate into stories.

Each page becomes a mirror

In a fun house.

I am coddled by an entourage of my own contorted reflections; The crowd of me leers through

the smoke and mirrors that have distorted our stories for too long and for once

I feel seen.

My Heaven is a library filled with stories I exist in and books free of

The thought, the feeling, or the word

Invisible.