poems, prose and
other pretty words
© 2010-2014
Chel Mercado

                        Morning & Recovery

Finding myself here embracing
   the rim of the bathroom sink:

Eyes fixed on the bowl — on anything other
than the  lashes  covered
in charcoal black mascara
blinking back,  above tongue licking dry lips.

"What a pretty little thing,"
  mouthed smirking lips
  spoke condescending grins

"Just a lovely darling,"
  leered strange faces
  in stranger places I was not supposed to be

& yet to trace the path of tapwater now
would only be to  tease  out  that vague,
  sinking feeling
that the world is passing me by today.

   i could start to be okay
if i should turn the faucet off
exactly the way a victim wouldn't