Let's not be coy
I said,
wagging my finger
you are here to talk about me
I said repeatedly
to the mirror
so talk---
I said, playfully
or I will.

The siren saved me
With her fragrant tune
On the water
At half past noon
He couldn’t resist
And she pulled him
Underneath
To have him join her
As her daily feast
At half past noon.


                      -L. Frost

Come one, come all!
I invite you now to the narcissistic ball!

A herd of manipulators will dominate this masquerade.
It will be a sight to see, get your ticket now and don’t be late!

The theme of tonight’s event is sociopathic tendencies,
preying on other people’s vulnerabilities.

Infatuated with themselves, lack any feeling.
Making love to their reflection is what they find appealing.

Mirror mirror on the wall
who is the grandest egomaniac of all?
They will be crowned tonight, didn’t you know?
You will find out if you dare to show!

Aloof in the wind, perfectly poised to the sun.
Dressed in the disguise of men he’d seen in movies.
Waiting, in the wrinkles of leather jackets
Waiting, intoxicating scent of cigarettes
Hiding with teeth infested vines
Hiding, fingers meshed into the roots
Cowering, it can’t hide from a mind so sharp it wounds him
A disgusting entity , suffering.
Oozing, contorting to fit the eye of the beholder
Repulsive vines splutter bitter sap that once seemed so sweet to me

i don’t care  
i might be afraid
but i don’t care
it won’t matter
when i won’t be

with bowel cancer,
soft bald heads like eggs
trembling in the sunlight
the other kids, they have chemo
can't whisk their dark thoughts up
can't lost them in a cake

parents, too many
didn't get it right
mean-skinned and angry-*****
hands shaped like bottle openers
toddlers flung like dollies
new plushies don't fix teeth

or eating disorders,
mouths that won't open for yoghurts
even low-fat ones,
but gape wide to spew out
carrots from the night before
that can't be composted

the other kids
in the therapy queue
have honest to goodness complaints
emotional-arthritis pains
complex genetic histories
there's something off about me

i feel like an impersonator
with my un-divorced parents
self-harm for a fresh sensation
still, i'm here too
in the therapy queue
rolling into the pity-me station.

You wanted me to be tiny like you

The compliments you gave out in the beginning
Dried up and soon nothing I did was enough for you

I went out of my way to help you the first time
After that, you took my help for granted, made me do it over and over again
You acted helpless to guilt me, and the truth is you didn’t want to help yourself
When I tried to stop, you left a hurtful letter, out in the open, very well visible, on the kitchen table
Yes, I know you lied about the fact that you wrote the letter for your eyes only
Yes, I know you wrote the letter to hurt me and manipulate me
That’s when I should have left you, but I was too nice, I was too naive

I did most of the cooking, and you did most of complaining about the food
You started to control the way I dress, you wanted me to dress the way that was acceptable to you
You also didn’t want me to be with my friends

You belittled the work I did to chase my dream
If I work for my dream, I would grow, and you didn’t want that
You needed me to be tiny, so you could control me

I couldn’t let you manipulate me into being tiny like you
I have a dream I can’t possibly achieve if I’m tiny like you
I can’t let that happen
That’s why you are not in my life