The Faded Blue Strip, Or, My Temporary Face

Found it tucked away,

deep in the old backpack,

that temp job, remember?

No, not really.

A laminated ID, thick plastic,

and me. My face.

Badly lit, a bit pale,

eyes wide, like caught in headlights,

or maybe just startled

by the flash, the sudden demand

to be this person, right here, right now.

The lanyard, a thin blue strip,

cheap fabric, stiff from years

of being folded, bent.

The corporate logo, almost gone,

a ghost of an initial,

where some bright, important brand

used to scream its purpose.

It felt so official then,

a weight around my neck,

a small, plastic identity.

Now, just a piece of me

I don't quite know,

a stranger's half-smile,

my temporary face,

before it faded,

just like the blue.