01 the mirror

the mirror

It 

stares me in the face day in and

day out, before and after every

shower, reminding me of what I

couldn’t escape. It still

wasn’t

quite right from the beginning and

mocked me every step of the way,

though I chose to ignore it out of

what I thought was love. It eased

it's slimy and hazy hold over

my

mind, all that I was, and I still had

the audacity and will to, look it--

her, this girl--in the putrid

eyes. But her bleak fuzzy and sockets

reminded me of mud, full of

fault

and apple rimmed from years of tears.

I smeared away the collected steam,

hoping to wipe away the blister on her

brain for forever, make her clear as I once

was.

But she’s too stubborn and naïve to see that

what had laid before her was poison.

Should I have wholeheartedly and

blatantly chosen to ignore

it?

Author's Note

I do take inspiration from Hellen Hopkins style of writing, and poetry has always been an outlet well before I was ever introduced to her work.