Finding myself here
embracing
the rim of the bathroom sink:
Eyes fixed on the bowl —
on anything other
than the lashes
covered
in charcoal black mascara
blinking back, above tongue licking dry lips.
"What a pretty little thing,"
mouthed smirking lips
spoke condescending grins
"Just a lovely darling,"
leered strange faces
in stranger places I was not supposed to be
& yet to trace the
path of tapwater now
would only be to
tease out that vague,
sinking feeling
that the world is passing
me by today.
i could start to be okay
if i should turn the
faucet off
exactly the way a victim
wouldn't
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