Poems ✍️

When Mirrors Cross Your Eyes


What has happened to you?
Your hourglass, weightless -
of sand, grain, and Life;
so obvious, your changes,
and the impact, yes,
that it's had on me;
so much so, my dear,
that in the REM of my sleep,
I can see your hollow eyes,
and frail protruding bone
cheeks levitating your ash white lids
over their swollen sockets,
and then I wake again
in a cold, drenched sweat.

And you squeeze and push
'gainst the egg-shell glass,
'til the crystal cracks, exposing
the blue in anemic veins,
tinsel-like,
such woeful inertia,
while you drown in a pool
of obsession
in your world
of disfigurement.

Now, fronting the mirror
on two bruised twigs,
you stand and snarl
at mirrored reflections
that bristle you,
from what you believe
you actually see...........,
as opposed to the you
you've now come to be:
an en-vogue paradox
of obscene paralysis,
fragile now,
as white paper made of rice,
or a pancreas-
malignantly dripping madly-
of end-stage cancer;
such cruel, cruel pain,
if you only truly saw
what I see...
when I'm standing rght behind you,
in your surrealistic world
of reflection, disconnection...,
delusion.

A scathing paradigm
of travesty, and yes...,
of masochistic, self-inflicted,
Christ a-morally unassisted
s...l...o...w, c e r e b r a l suicide.

Anorexia Nervosa, but why?
you'd been far better off
calling Jack Kavorkian
so your final moments
would go faster and painless.


________ F j R ________




© MMXIV-all rights reserved
Frank James Ryan Jr./ FjR