Reflections Behind the Door
BY HOLLY CORMIER
I found myself in the mirror
Repeating after them, “Where did you go?”
I didn’t know what they meant,
I hadn’t lent any part of me to time
Or place beyond, my face felt no crime except on What you may have done to we:
Me and I, for My is gone;
Belonging to no one, I couldn’t hold on
To who I was before; yet I never left.
It wasn’t theft, but murder,
You hurt her -
The little girl behind boarded door.
Perhaps my cells have transfigured;
Five years I’ve heard is near enough.
I’ve stripped away my skin and bones,
Ripped out fluff, stitched back up-
Where did I go?
I don’t know, can you tell me?
You watched for so long,
Your personal show.
Tell me mirror, what do you see?
Whose eyes are staring back,
Is this me?
See, I’ve got to hand it to you-
No really, here, take what’s been used.
I don’t need her anymore,
The little girl behind the door.