the two x’s
By Amy Myers
sunny days tend to be worse than others,
for the inner monologue is so..so loud.
i am never enough…not in your eyes, but
mine burn in each reflective surface.
i hate to see it, but i have to look.
my weeping circles gaze back at me,
begging to be loved by their owner.
i’m so hostile….but only to myself.
as if i’m experiencing stockholm syndrome
within my own body. i don’t wish to leave,
but i am so unkind to my reflection.
comparison shadows me,
like an altered version of myself.
i walk, and it’s there.
i run, and it’s there.
i think, and it’s there.
like i said, sunny days
make the shadow more apparent.
it holds my hand through all.
but with a strong, violent grip.
sometimes when it’s cloudy, i pull away,
but the sun always comes back.
my shadow stays there,
outlining my silhouette.
the warmth yields the life around me,
but how do i stop it from creating this shadow?
the flora around me casts their unique shadows
and reminds me of my own.
but they’re so beautiful…
why can’t my shadow exude the beauty
that those shadows display.
but if those shadows present such elegant shapes..
i guess the sun isn’t all that bad, right?
