the mirror doesn't know what to do with me
and tries not to scream, in fact,
avoiding shattering both of us at the same time. i
wish i'd been born with snakes in
my hands so i'd have an automatic release
from the ugliness of such states of mind.
i'm not anyone's heralded warrior.
i do battle with myself because
no one is my warrior, either.
i think it's somebody's holiday now
but i've been anemic since September
so don't expect my sympathies; i
usually stay in bed after the war:
some days it's entirely too much effort
to put my boots on correctly.