My Life is not my Own

by Alexandre Leclerc

I sell my soul

My life is not my own:
I rent my hours for a living;
I whore my body to feed it;
I sell my mind to free my soul
(or is it the other way around?).
I spend my time building lies,
confabulations to appease
the growing unease,
the dissonance between my needs and my wants,
between expectations and commitments.
Past decisions have left me disowned,
owner of my cat’s life,
of garden-grown produce
and growing debt,
but my home, like my life,
is not my own.