Six years ago my nightmares were derived from sounds of bones breaking
And the slamming doors of daddy leaving
Sometimes I don't recognize my reflection in windows
Am I the glass or am I beyond the glass?

I've been reborn into this world I created of revolving doors and half empty glasses
Maybe this is how growing up feels
But you'd think my mother would have warned me about the blanket of darkness surrounding us even when this unrelenting Florida sun is out in full force

When I wake up, I often feel like a china doll
Porcelain and pretty to look at, too fragile to touch
Sitting inches from the edge of the bed gazing down towards my demise

It always takes a good hour of hitting the snooze button for me to realize I'm still alive and the cocktail of benzos and wine from the night before haven't sent me into a colorless limbo

Today is a new day but I am still faced with decade old demons
Still in search of some sense of self