Girl in the Mirror
I do not recognize the girl in the mirror.
She stares me down,
dark-eyed and bloody-mouthed.
She’s ready to bolt.
She’s ready to leave me.
“I can’t take this anymore.”
I know, I know.
I wipe my lips with the back of my hand,
smearing blood,
and I start to cry.
The rings of bruises round my eyes sting.
And the girl in the mirror
is disappearing,
bit by bit.
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