I am sitting in a mirror,
hurrying truth faster than it has time
to find itself,
my skin is catching up
and I am missing everything.
I let the tigers out, they crawl
around, scratching my walls,
guarding the music that played three years ago
while I unwrapped myself
for love. I can not
make them leave!
This room is buried
deeper than his coffin. I breathe
less than the body he left
behind, tight blue lips
whisper
how cold it is down here!
Dig me out of this mirror,
this wild death! Is killing me
a plan? Is taking life
straight from my skin
a revenge? I can not
start a dead heart. I can not.