My reflection swallows round my eyes like twisted hair beads and pink oil
while the mirror leaks a frightening truth
that I go mad to.
I hold the wishing in my fingers
drenched in castor, tea tree, and peppermint
my scalp only blooms red

I.
If we could be quiet in the small spaces,
maybe they would make excuses for us.
Our bodies, forgiven only once in a while.
We look in the mirror, see dualities of ourselves
and ask them to break. I like the glass between us.

Bony fingers whipping, winding, wrinkling ‘cross my scalp
Heat near ears - don’t do it - yep, she’s scalded me
“Girl, don’t wail like that!” Popped with comb
Wince and whine, smile inside - aunties like this are rare
No they’re not, dime a dozen, priceless

Too long we have forgotten
The story of breath in our lungs

Depending on who you ask
We started from clay, dust,
Half of a ribcage, the salt of the
Earth, the water of the sea;
The old gods.

My brain likes to run amuck.    
Some days it gets stuck on the same thought:
You are in love with someone and they do not love you.
You ate too much today and are now chubby, too chubby in fact to be loved by anybody.

Dear Body,
I’m sorry 
For all of the hate you're given
I know you're just trying to make a living
And go on with your life as it is
But every day you're seen in a mirror
And at that moment you’re seen clearer
Even when I’m just looking down