MINE

a one-act play

By M.E.

CHARACTERS:
Myself
Me
I

SETTING:
The coffee shop-
(It's local).

SCENE:
An afternoon.

ME:
Man, I'm thirsty.
MYSELF:
And hungry.
I:
for, meat.

ME:
Creep.
MYSELF:
Interesting-
I:
Honest?

ME:
Do you realize
MYSELF:
that everyone you know
I:
someday

(ALL):
will die.

ME:
Just because you quote The Flaming Lips doesn't make you hip.
MYSELF:
This is an organic coffee shop.
I:
And there's live music here. And art. Shi-shi, yes.

ME:
I wonder if I fit in.
MYSELF:
I wonder if I stick out.
I:
I wonder if I would like me, were I not myself.

ME:
So, I was thinking, is there a better way to be, a better version of, myself?
MYSELF:
Always.
I:
And?

ME:
Sometimes, I become this person, this me that's very real, but very compartmentalized. Some parts swell up and others shrink away, if only for a minute.
MYSELF:
Like that science experiment, where you put the balloon on the end of the beaker. It blows it up, it sucks it back. Compression, de-
I:
-pression.

ME:
Well, I just mean I know who I am but I let myself change colors, out of boredom. Out of the need to be perched on a branch, and turned spotted.
MYSELF:
A chameleon?
I:
Scales.

ME:
I sound so Emo.
MYSELF:
SO emo.
I:
Whatever, you.

ME:
(shifts in chair)
MYSELF:
(glances back and forth, between the two)
I:
(yawns)

ME:
I gotta head out.
MYSELF:
Got a date?
I:
With myself.
ME:
Cute.
MYSELF:
Clever.

ME:
Let's do this again sometime.
MYSELF:
Yeah, we could meet here, say, every Thursday?
I:
Can't. Sewing class.
ME & MYSELF:
(in unison)
LAME.

ME:
Too good for us.
MYSELF:
You can't be that busy.
(I casually picks up her books, busses her mug, and walks offstage.)

ME:
I...don't understand.
MYSELF:
Neither do we.
ME & MYSELF:
(in unison) Hmph.

[Curtain.]

The Ability to Live a Lie

I don't know how I acquired such a skill
to live an entire life beyond the one you know of.
And I was born of you; I came from you and grew to what you
think I am now.
If you only knew.
Sometimes when I'm driving I cry over what I'd feel
if you were gone.
I can barely take a breath,
a crooked sink pipe or a frozen flower,
heavy in ice.
My throat buckles, because in the front row
would be a person you didn't know
was part of the family.
Did you know your child had a child?
Not from my own, but loved just the same.
To think- I call you every day. I tell you of the tales,
the happenings, and every night you rest your head
easy, knowing I'm okay.
I want
more than anything
to tell you the whole story,
though I'd rather know you're rested.
I'd rather imagine your eyes at peace
than be free of the guilt
I wake to-