Moonflower Archive

By J’Nya Johnson

Who is J’Nya?

I asked myself this question five months ago,

and the silence that followed was deafening.

I couldn’t answer it.

I know who I thought she was.

But the girl in my memory was just a performer—

a people pleaser pacing the stage,

a creation spun from someone else’s mind.

So, I killed her.

Then I sat in the quiet

and grieved for her,

because despite the masks,

she was my friend.

Now the stage is empty.

If I have killed her, then who am I?

If I have killed her,

who am I?

Who are you?

Are you a performer too?

Is there a director

giving you your lines?

A puppet master

pulling at your strings,

telling you what to think,

what to want,

who to be?

Whose script

are you a character in?

Will you close the curtain too?