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I look in the mirror and I see “her” face

I make my bed, just in case.

Unmade bed, unmade day “she” says.

No matter how hard I try I know I have “her” ways.

I look in the mirror and see “her” face.

I speak and hear words “she” says.

I look in the mirror and see “her” face.

Push in the chair at the dining table,

Close the front door.

Something about my smile, the shape of my eyes.

Warm embrace too much space?

This is the start of this poem. I got stuck because I am too close to the subject and I am unable to finish this thought. For better or worse, I’m in a toxic place with “her” right now and it is just getting worse.

I will finish this, but not now.

Lunatic Fringe Forever…………………..