The mirror this morning hisses at me
I hear the croaks of past critique
And for some reason, I agree

This day is cold and bleak
Time sprints in silence
And jogs when I speak

I’d rather endure a physical violence
Than have to depart my precious shell
I clasp my hands for an angel’s guidance

My chin shot up, but then it fell
For I saw myself in a reflective door
And then my knees became a gel

I felt a pain within my core
My eyes began to salt themselves
And I could breathe no more

I spread my life like jam onto cement
But the others like me are the ones I lament