Faceless needs

I forced your face on my needs,
and it became one
before I could see it was made of plastic.
turned into deep
useless reflection,
assisted by fruit flies and lever-pressing rats.
I made an effort
not to spit on the mirror while brushing my teeth,
but tiny white drops dried
and accumulated faster
than I was willing to clean them.
They showed me the mess
expanding beyond myself.
Accusing spots
pointing at different parts of my brain,
parts unwilling to negotiate with one another.
I could see what was going on,
still, it wasn’t of any use.
It looked like it was because of you
or your mask.
It wasn’t. I replaced you like a dirty diaper.
It was my needs,
faceless again.

By | 2017-07-09T00:59:58+00:00 April 12th, 2017|Poetry|0 Comments

About the Author:

Leave A Comment