20 Questions

Do you think I am pretty?

Peering close

Nose almost to mirror

Trace

See

Blemishes

Where none there are.

Do you think I am beautiful?

Blind

Seeing imperfections

A pinch of skin

Equals an ounce of fat

Starving

Fingers down throat

Counting the ribs

Macabre delight.

Am I skinny enough?

Do you love me know?

No?

Carved

Bones taken

Lips injected

Breasts lifted

Look into the mirror

Who do you see?

Who is this stranger looking back?

Do you love me now?

Do you want me now?

I have changed everything

Why is it not enough?

©June 6/22

Picture via Pinterest

Subvert

**I submitted two poems to The New Yorker. This is one of the two. I obviously was rejected but I can say with pride I was rejected by The New Yorker.***

There is an evil rot within

leaching from the heart

any illusion

that there remains some good.

Time and time again

it has been proven

that society has become doomed

trading away

ethics

morals

basic humanity.

Twisting and subverting

with each falsehood told

embraced

with zeal

religious fevor

becoming the very demon

decried as the enemy.

We have failed.

We have lost our way.

One by one

we have been corrupted

by lies

by slight of hand

and the tears that are wept

fall between the cracks

in this desert land.

©Feb. 23/18

Photo by Jason Leung on Unsplash