Standing naked and vulnerable,
skin crawling with irritation,
confronting a harsh, neglected mirror
with dubious hesitation
Oh, such imperfection I see,
a face heavily lined in stress and strife,
marred and scarred by a chaotic,
Does that face belong to me?
Such a scared little girl,
hiding inside a woman full grown
Can I let that little girl out
to play once again?
Or is she too naïve to be left alone in
this big bad world so often cruel to
a long inhabited anatomical tenement
far too worn to be conceived as
a fresh new exotica?
I spend the long night hours vigorously chewing up, then distastefully spitting out, a mouthful of self-loathing
well seasoned with doubt –
to my Neurotica~
alicia winski ©2009