Looking Glass

"The men eyed her with the automatic mix of curiosity, lust, and aesthetic judgement they always gave young women, subject to object, the way you'd stare at an animal. She pretended not to notice. To remind them she was a person was too much effort. Objects bore no guilt."


Sometimes you're nothing but meat. A lamb in a lion's den. Some people ACHE to be the meat. They'd give everything to sacrifice themselves. I never understood it. This vignette of life is mine. Recently it happened, again, it is not uncommon. I could sense the hunter like a bee senses fear. The eyes were locked, prowling, lurking, licking their chops, about to pounce on the meat. They interlaced in the crowd. But I knew where each one was. I felt the past clouding around me like blood in shark infested waters. We were all animals here. The sharks circled me, knowing what I have done. I was unsure if they knew...what they knew, but it felt all too familiar. I wasn't alone in being stalked. I'd been here before. Now I'm on the other side of the mirror. I knew I wasn't supposed to be here, and as I looked back through the looking glass, I couldn't help but wonder if things were different on this side.

Words Like Daggers

If they are objects...
they are the daggers thrown at me
tied to a spinning wheel
A black mass floating out like smoke
from my lips
The enemy
to a glass thought
Your stare is far more piercing
Whose intentions are easier to read
"Haze all clouded up my mind
in the daze of what could've never been"
before I finished the sentence
My heart was pounding
The words dripped down my thoughts
into that dark chasm so few dare to reach for
Your leaps are without hesitation
regardless of how sharp the blades are lining my throat
and even as I'm cut to ribbons
still I see the light in you

As we said goodbye, like a dead twin, always at my side
You said you'd see me in the next life
"What surety there is" I read
"That we will meet again on other worlds"
and then I died a little more

The volume defiant to my need
I couldn't hear your screams loud enough
I flipped through the pages of pain
"brothers and lovers"
Some unable to be labeled
Some afraid to put a label on
for fear I'd have to put them on that designated shelf
unable to escape
actions DENY louder than words
and with each sweet note you sing
or plead
I flinch from the pain
I wonder what he knows
I wonder what he's been told
the words float through my head
taunting and cruel

Walk Away

He said he’d be up late. He said the door was always open; the invite was on the table, any time. I knew it was dangerous ground, but I walked it anyway. I found myself stranded, a common occurrence for me. I had negotiated with a friend that she would drop me off if I went with her to a bar just before for a couple of hours. When I called he was sleeping, so much for staying up late. He picked me up and we went back to his place.
I had been having insomnia for a while. My mind was never still, never calm these days. Something was always eating at me. Lying down to go to sleep was often accompanied with a panic attack. My heart thumped the inside of my chest so hard my sternum ached. My body was shaking, there was a hard lump in the back of my throat and I felt sick to my stomach. My paranoia kept me awake. I always thought someone was looking through my window; someone was trying to get in the front door or climbing up the balcony. Not to mention that my insecurities were beginning to eat me alive.

So as we lay there in bed, I tried to fall asleep. I slept at the very edge of the bed, facing away. He scooted closer and put his arm across me. I didn’t move. I tried not to breathe. He caressed my arm, then my stomach. I was trying to pretend to sleep through an oncoming panic attack. I could almost hear my heart pounding, I’m sure he could too. I’m sure he thought it was cute. I felt sick to my stomach. It became all too clear to me what I thought of this situation. I wondered why I was there, why did I do this to myself? My frustration with myself was almost violent. I wanted to yank out my hair. I wanted to step outside of myself to give me a good slap in the face. I was screaming in my head. He moved closer and I still didn’t move, still didn’t breathe. In my head I was screaming “PLEASE STOP”, but I couldn’t make myself form the words. I never could. I squeezed my eyes shut tight, tried to pretend I was somewhere else. He started to rub my back and I know he could feel my heart pounding. I know he wanted me to turn around. I could feel him lean up over me and pull my hair away from my face, I still pretended to sleep. He pulled my shoulder towards him. He lifted me up and pulled me closer to him. I glanced back at him and rolled back over. No expression on my face. I think I never had an expression on my face when I was in that spot.

I’m not sure I ever went to sleep that night. I just wondered why I torture myself. Why had I become so incapacitated?