i don’t need a mirror

to look at myself

to see

what a monster

I have become

and when I look

and think about

you or the things

you have been doing to me

I am forced to call us all monsters

fire breathing dragons

would be a compliment

as I self-quarantine

in this time

I see my body shifting

I hear my bones cracking

I feel the burn and itch

of my skin peeling

I don’t need you to tell me

or a mirror to show me

the remains of the flames

the red in the my blood, now black

my head constantly hurting

I try to sleep

I pull the covers over my head

shutting out every bit of

sound or light

but the words won’t stop

this is the poem

that is forming in my head

a far cry from a lullaby

should I give up?

turn on the light

and watch this black blood

pumping through the veins

in my body

like gasoline drive me

from one goal to the next

and be pushed around like a donkey

with a carrot on a stick

or lie in darkness

and shut my eyes to this big black void

waiting for the storm in my head to end

so I can conjure stars out of thin air

to sleep

to sleep

to sleep

~ fin ~