The Actor Is Me

“Places… everyone…” There’s a flicker in the back of my mind A silent film I keep rewinding Every frame is neatly dressed So I don’t have to make a guess Who’s the villain, who’s to blame? Funny how they look the same… Cut it here, remove that part Hide the fracture, frame the art Replace the face, adjust the tone Make very sure it’s not my own “Not me… not me…” I call them out, judge them loud While burying what’s disallowed Every splice is clean and bright But something’s bleeding through the light The actor is me—I feel the shift Behind every carefully crafted myth I changed the names, I changed the view But the shadow kept breaking through The actor is me—I hear the line Echo back every borrowed crime No matter how I rearrange The face in the frame won’t change Wait… stop… rewind— Wait… stop… rewind— Why does the voice sync up with mine? Why does the guilt land every time? If I erase them from the scene… Do I disappear with everything? “You wrote this… you wrote this…” No more cuts, no disguise No more alibis in different eyes Let it roll, let it stay Let the truth project its way The actor is me—I take the role Every fracture, every whole No more casting blame aside I let the shadow step outside The actor is me—no mask, no frame No one left to take the blame And in the light I tried to fight I finally see in black and white Just silence where the film once played And nothing left to reframe