a word on hyper-independence
My life has always been one of quiet sovereignty,
a party where the only attendees are mirrors.
Only I seem to notice when the girl who looks back at me is spent,
when the crown is straining her neck and her authority flinches.
Only I notice when her skin looks juicy and pert,
when her fears simmer low in her irises,
when she can’t keep her hands out of her mouth.
I have always been watching myself,
with such dripping, earnest desire.
I turn away from kind eyes because I’ve only ever known my own.
How could anyone else watch me the same way?
One thought on “A Party Where the Only Attendees are Mirrors”
There you go again, calling out what others can’t say.