I glance at the reflection of myself,

my hair a big mess,

curling at the beginning of my shoulders,

my shoulders crooked,

frowning upon my body,

my body held by two hands,

as if in danger to fall against the ground,

hands holding my stomach,

I can feel the hunger grow,

my stomach filled with coffee and pills,

pills upon my desk,

waiting for the pain to get back.

I watch myself hold on to this body,

to the only breathing creature that still forgives my wrongs,

I watch the mess I have become,

and my hair curling upon my shoulders.

The reflection drowned in tears of selfdestruction,

a pale face, dark and hollow eyes,

small lips trying to speak,

but reflections do not talk,

they merely watch this body fall,

they watch those hands pull closer to its body,

they watch this body tremble.

My hair, a big mess, curling at the beginning of my shoulders,

I think,

whether or not to cut it.

 

Jehona Thaqi© originally posted on jehonathaqi.com

Published by Jehona Thaqi