“Only Survivor”

My reflection told me that she’d pray for me,

arms crossed and lips in a pout.

I used to hate her.

Now I just feel worn out,

a sputtering candle,

forgoing oxygen for something else.

I’m drifting now.

This is a strange ocean,

filling up the corners of my mind.

There’s nothing worse than wet insulation.

I tried do-it-yourself,

with a hairdryer and some glue.

But there’s no fixing

this affliction

made of

black feathers,

awash in a mess of blue.