Girl on Display

by Rebecca Pinwei Tseng

museum of many things
like gaggle box
and no matching limbs
I have been searching
from the underground up.
If I sleep without an agenda,
I am scared no one will wake me up.
Like dinosaur dirt,
I am acidic
conducting myself into misshapen
little bones.
How to unlearn this
Lying here
like an open stomach wound
waiting to be swallowed
by heaven or other light
iceberg – some vertical vibration.
My pretend does not know how to end
Already, I look without blinking.
Dig through the cardboard
or that vase carved so pretty.
The mantle still dusty with pattern
Will you recognize me there?
If you look,        look at this
monstrosity. The madness
building within. How much is fossil,
a dinosaur’s expired electricity.
Can you tell how bad I am at being so still.