Sucker Punch Reflection
Little shards of reflective glass Claim their new home Embedded in the skin of my knuckles Drops of red fall like a summer rain Turning this porcelain sink into a literal blood bath But at least the man in the mirror is gone I’ll happily bleed out knowing I never have to see his fucking face again
The rug is covered in a dangerous glitter and the soles of my feet crush them even more A blood dance, like a macabre stripper they twinkle from the soft yellow glow one gets from halogen bulbs I can feel myself getting dizzy My arm now carrying tributaries and rivers leading to the lakes on the floor
She knocks on the door asking if I’m ok, if I’m alright I feel too tired to reply but manage to spit out the words “I’m fine” but she doesn’t believe my quiet lie and she opens the door to a scene straight out of a snuff film
I slowly make my way to the floor my legs just don’t want to hold the weight spread out and making broken mirror angels and not even a second passes before she is next to me holding my hand above my heart with one hand as she dial’s 9-1-1 with the other her voice fades in and out and I lose interest in the conversation Everything sounds like an adult in Peanuts womp womp womp womp
but I see her crying and I filled with guilt and shame I mumble I’m sorry but she doesn’t hear a thing