I avoid mirrors at all costs.

I cannot stand the sight of her, the way she looks. Those ghastly hips and foul teeth, sunken lids with irises the color of contaminated mold.

She writhes and speaks such nonsensical things, I do not understand her. She does not understand her.

A twenty five year old placenta, burnished with weeks of ragged scars. Her years showing back on plain thighs, a stretched stomach.

She eyes her scars while a man that guards his sweet sex like a pearl binds her.

She is stubbornly hanging on, begging to be let go to ears that fall deaf at cries.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s