i'll be that girl

i'll be that girl.

a constant thrum of water against

glass—smudging out the sills, slicing

knifing, reflected faces.

and i'm blameless, miraged inside

white boxed navy blue squares,

feeling gussied up and ruined.

pink eyes and hair tangles woven like

gauze, another excuse to wrap up in—

slamming doors & jaws shut,

down.