Warped Reflection

This mirror is warped.

Do not make me believe
that it is some far flung
ego or id that is causing
the fluctuations of my
reflected being.

This woman has a protective
parabola of oil,
a shimmering rainbow of
aromatic hydrocarbons,
infused with glass of an
inquisitive juxtapostition.

All life askew under her
bell jar. Should this
girl be allowed
to drown everyday in
ordinary activities of
hair washing and dusting
and arranging of babies?

Dear God, I am glad
I am not that woman.

That echoing zombie voice -
that dances with melting stars
and dissolves the
effervescent life beyond Mars
and travels faster than time
itself to strangle the awakening
alternative alto vibration
encased in my soul.

What beautiful brown eyes she has,
compared with twinned grey slits.
My surface is thick and full and hers is
waning like a reflected moon
at dusk.

She has two children,
what a wonder!
How can this
shadow cope?
Two offspring of some
scandalous daemon.

The Bible is a lie,
we are not the Children of God
but the Brats of Satan.

My wrist is bruised from
my own self pity and hers
is scarred, like her
flimsy stomach has
silver running through it's
veins on the skin.

My kin, my kin, what a sin
she is.

Murderess dragging me
into her grave too;

when I want my own dark
Hell, free from
adulterers and thieves
and just a place to taste
the bitter blankness
of nothingness.

This is a really clever poem both in the structure and the words you use. Extremely intense and passionate.

that was so intesne , like Inari said. i can really tell how u were feeling! i kinda felt it too! very good.
keep writing!!!!!!

I agree with both above, I always love the intensity that your poems seem to have; you are and always will be a contemporary of Plath, which is why I love your work so. A few of the lines were a little lengthy in places, but other than that I really loved your imagery, and the concept behind it. Bloody well done.