Identity

She reeked of hospital bed and cloth restraints
She smelled acidic, like she’d held pills
Under her tongue too long (to avoid swallowing them)
But the “toxicity” had leaked into her anyway.
She smelled of an asylum that used to be white,
But it had yellowed and was painted over,
Every mark of dirt, neglect, still prevalent
So that the white paint became corrupted into a dishwater gray

Well this was a corrupted reality,
Not the way things were supposed to be,
We’ve fallen so far and the price we pay,
The consequences of our collective sin.
Those really bond by chains of delusion
A by product of their environments,
One of bleakness and spiritual death,

Her hair teemed with necro.
Her appearance feral,
Even in a peripheral view,
Once could say the way her hair danced
Atop her head, matted and tangled, black and shiny
Thin at the ends, like snakes

At night she screamed

She haunted people, embodied their deepest fears,
Reminded them of guilt.
She might as well have been a daymare
Of some forsaken child
An infant medusa, not love at all

People couldn’t look into her eyes
Afraid of seeing the world shaking truth and light
Instead they remained blind
But one can’t hide from unscrupulous truth for so long
And when they look they struggled
To hold her gaze marred with frantic beady eyes
Until they caught her stare and struggled to move
Frozen in place unable to escape and they were stone
What they’ve ignored for so long
It’s so easy to look from what reminds us of some dark
Place inside ourselves
So easy to pretend

Finally I dared to face her, I knew I was
Allowing this to happen
I went into the rest room to dry my nervous palms,
I looked up into the mirror carefully:
Time to face my demon,
First glance, I thought she was standing behind me
I could see her vacant eyes holding onto mine,
But I could move
I turned around to see no one,
Later realized in the mirror that
I had just seen my lingering reflection.