Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
"This is who you are" I say, tugging and scratching at the image in the mirror I don't feel contempt. Dry and patchy skin. A flesh palace. For water, blood and whatnot Can put holes in it. Decorative. Or deadly. Wouldn't fix the toothy grin though. Even a sneer wouldn't. My cheek is sore, so I stop pinching. My problem. Is the soul behind it. The ****** past the eye. Ripping anything out wouldn't help. He leers at me when I look. And he answers in my voice. "You got nothing else. "
0
Dec 16, 2020
Dec 16, 2020 at 11:57 PM UTC
reflect
"This is who you are" I say, tugging and scratching at the image in the mirror I don't feel contempt. Dry and patchy skin. A flesh palace. For water, blood and whatnot Can put holes in it. Decorative. Or deadly. Wouldn't fix the toothy grin though. Even a sneer wouldn't. My cheek is sore, so I stop pinching. My problem. Is the soul behind it. The ****** past the eye. Ripping anything out wouldn't help. He leers at me when I look. And he answers in my voice. "You got nothing else. "
gleck
Written by
25/M
Dec 16, 2020
Dec 16, 2020 at 11:57 PM UTC
Request permission to use this poem