The Shards of my Mirror

I cannot speak.
Words fly around in my head like lightning strikes.
First strike to the right, second to the left.

Then a direct hit to my heart.

My throat tightens as if I am wearing a scarf wrapped too tightly around it.
I swallow over and over.
I breathe slowly through my nose to stop the impending need to throw up.

Where did this come from?
This sudden panic.

I walk numbly from my bathroom to the side of my bed, grabbing hold of my pillow.
I hold it tightly to my chest as I rock back and forth.

Who have I hurt?
Who has hurt me?

I want a drink
No…I want a Valium.
No…wait. I want both.

I gulp air as the need to puke subsides.
I angrily swipe the hot tears off my cheeks.
Cursing myself for being fucked up.

How after more than fifty years of living…
I am now falling into a million shattered pieces…

This is my story.
The Shards of my Mirror.


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