Poem-A-Day 001: Mistaken Identity

Mistaken Identity

The other day, when I yelled
at you to get the hell out of my face
that wasn't me.

I
don't really know who it was.
She
looks like me
sometimes.

Minus the gray hair
and the scowl,
we could be sisters;
twins

But
that wasn't me.

And the crazy lady who
chased you across the courtyard,
lanyard jingling like
a prison guard's keys

that woman who
screamed at you and your friends
to get the hell back outside
to wait for the bus
because we were

all hot
all tired
all thirsty
and by god we were not
going to wait
for you

yeah, that woman
wasn't me

I'm the picture
of calm
of poise
of maturity

that wasn't me
losing my head
over you.