(100th poem) So I'm Frankenstein after all ...

I'm Frankenstein's other and I've created a monster.
With pieces of myself, my desires and another.
I'm yet to learn of the cord that joins up the scars,
of stolen flesh, the unearthly façade.
I'll wear the clown's mask on my face as my own – pretend to be vain
to hide the anxiety, the loss the doubt and the pain.

When questions arise, I am aware of the answer.
Who am I to you and who is my master?
No longer myself, of that I am sure – a tool for us and a show for them
I'm not my creator but the inverter, myself I'll leave, die and condemn.

Frankenstein made a monster from men, woman and all
I made one alike of from bits of myself, my desires and another.