Locked in a standsill

with a pool of shimmering glass.

Naked,

afraid that this was all I ever was

and all I will be.

Dead black hair covering the bathroom floor.

Rotting fingernail paint all over my skin.

All these rotten things

are things have to love

or do I?

Chesire cat grins murmuring, "You look good today"

as the shadows surround my bare body

in a pool of broken shards.

I am bleeding,

and as I look at myself I  think,

I should have learned how to swim.