WRITTEN BY MONIQUE DOUCETTE

These fists keep flying after I surrender,

Pummeling the tender flesh,

Bruises large

Purple pain

That flashes before my eyes.

Loose ends that fall

In the cracks,

That stumble into

Crevices.

There is no place for me,

No place I belong,

No place I can fit.

The moment the light shines I hide from it,

Timid, not from the beams, but from the

Illumination

Of the mirror of the person that I am,

The ugliness that stares back at me

That yells at me

That joins the mob that’s been beating me

Non-stop

Since I can remember.

I wish I could wipe the slate clean and forget all of me that is me.

Who would miss me?

They would only miss the person they become in my presence to survive.

I am only a stimulus,

No reactions are from something original in me.

Nothing is new.

So their misdirected hatred

Lashes out

At

Me.