Down by a river with a medieval name
Like Past Regrets or Doom,
I stare at the reflection of
My same hollow eyes and queasy smile
And mud-brown angry brokenness.
“You’re ugly,” I whisper-shout, scowl,
“I hate you.”
I close my eyes, skip a stone,
Inhale. Keep inhaling.
Exhale loud and long and.
Pause.
And everything melts together
In a summery liquid ice cream sandwich
Until pink brain-mush tells pink latex lungs
Breathe now or die.
Open eyes and watch zebra dots
Make ballerina twirls above my head,
And I hurt and I’m dizzy and stop.
Replay the knife’s smile-slide
Into my skin, let bugs crawl beneath it.
Blood. Smell, taste, wet red sound.
Reality pays a two-minute visit
To tell me to look down, down,
At faded pink scar-kisses.
And I’m afraid they’ll disappear
And take away my one reminder;
I’ll have to carve them in again,
I’ll have to.
Look back at medieval-named river,
Inhale, exhale, pausemeltbreathe,
Stand up on shaky jelly legs.
Disassociate, disengage,
Rob myself of negative, bad,
Ugly (completely necessary) self-talk.
Psycho-analyze,
And how do you feel about that?
But I can’t let myself feel anything
Or else smile-slide scar-kisses
Will come back to tell me hideous things
And draw more monsters in my skin.

even the elephant likes it. Your poem reaches out to people. Good job