I strike the first blow and the mirror cracks
A small lie, like a drop of food dye
the lie coloring the crystal waters of my life
like a stain clouding the waters
I strike back, a counter of self hate
punishing myself for failing myself
and hurting myself with the hating of myself
The battle rages and the battle field of my heart
is splattered with mud and misery and a
choking smoke of confusion hangs like a damp
curtain coating everything
I circle myself, my body a mirror wreathed in smoke
baptized in hate and sweating bitter failure
I wield words like a sword master, hacking with a lie
and feinting with an ego booster only to sink my sword deep
and twist with hypocrite.
Words like machine guns shatter the silence as they shatter
my bones; traitor, pretender, user, manipulator
I try to defend with searching, trying and hoping
but they are torn away like paper houses in a typhoon
I scream my victory, the blood still pouring from the cuts of
worthless and No one loves you
consumed I stab and stab again with hypocrite
Hypocrite, hypocrite, hypocrite
the blood fountains from the gaping wounds
a blood mist consuming the air and leaving nothing
I laughed at myself, hysterically my eyes demonic
the blood pools underneath me and congeals but I
just won’t die so I laugh, each convulsion shooting red failure
into the air and coating me
I shake myself and scream at my laughing self
holding the mirror and crying at the eyes crying at me
and carving valleys of shame through the grime
and falling upwards and splattering my face
I coughed and reached for myself,
my small fingers reaching for me and hoping for me
my eyes begging, pleading and bleeding for love
needing me to love me and heal me
I look at myself and I see myself in myself
my eyes are calling for me and I am just so tired
So tired of hating myself and hurting myself because
I can’t be what they tell me and so I abuse myself
to make up for not being able to be myself
But I am tired of not Loving myself
So I hold myself and I whisper to myself words
Healing words that mend the rending
I whisper Poetry, and Sing and God and Love
and Journey and Mercy and Live and Be free
and I hold myself and whisper in my ear
I love You and I accept you and finally I die
and I become myself.
