March 19, 2013
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The first time you saw rain, it wasn’t
You knew the air was charged, and wet, and electric
But it was still just air.
You felt the raindrops stick to your skin and catch in your eyelashes and melt inside you
But they were still just drops of water.
You went back inside and shook them off.

You see, it’s not the mirror that scares you
That sends shivers cascading down the icy waterfall of your spine
It’s your face
It’s not your reflection which stretches out trembling fingers –
Cold, wet, electric –
It’s you.
You’re caught between start and end
Straining to keep your hated face
Above water

The first time you go back, it won’t be
They’ll be there, and you’ll be there,
And the air will rub up against your skin –
Your glance will rub up against their cheekbones –
Cold –
Wet –
Electric –
But they won’t meet your eyes.
You’ll go back inside and shake it off.

Face it, just face it, they keep screaming
But you can’t, don’t they see?
Because it’s yours
Don’t they get it?


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