I'm trying to run away from my reflection,
So you pick up another mirror,
Point at the wickedly smooth surface
And beg me to find who you see waiting there
But her eyes won't lift to meet mine.
Her hands won't untwist
From the anxious knot of tangled fingers.
Her shoulders are heavily draped with
Burdens disguised as standards
And the way they sag matches
The circles under her eyes.
Soon you're screaming
You cannot understand
That when I think of who waits for me in every specular surface
I simply cannot
bare
to
stare.