And they pick you apart:
With the childish glee of
Pouring salt on snails,
Of picking the wings off moths.
A rat looking for the best scraps
Catches its own reflection in a mirror
Above a heap of
Every chip in your nail, a pill
You’ve taken to see just how fast
You can swallow a bottle.
They see the untrimmed split ends,
Tearing, ripping in half,
Selling you out:
“Unfinished, unkept, unwanted”.
The yellow stained teeth of verbal acid
Foam at the corners of their blue lips.
A rat confused, walks into glass
Again and again;
Thuds on a bloodied mirror.
They ask you who you are,
They already know.
You become them, or they’ve always been you.
A rat turns and eats itself whole.