The Unwanted Likeness

Trying to clear the digital dust,

a sudden, unwelcome guest.

But there it was, from Cousin Jane’s

big, loud affair.

A grimace born of hidden pains,

a smile I couldn't wear.

The camera caught the slight tilt, too,

my head leaning wrong.

And eyes that saw right through

where I felt I belonged.

A borrowed joy, a hollow show,

this frame I can't erase.

The self I didn't know,

stuck in that time and place.