#medium poem

but you were unmistakable

even in the light of the dark evening.

So too was the girl you were with

the one that clung to your arm

and rested her head on your shoulder.

You were so close together

she could smell you, hold you, touch you,

in ways I’ve longed to do again for so many months.

My mind opened its doors to all the unwelcome emotions

hatred, envy, jealousy, danger, they all raced to enter my mind

I never stopped them.

But so too did another visitor come in

The all too familiar sadness that I’ve tried to banish

since the first time you broke my heart.

Sadness was shoved along

jostled alongside the racing emotions

like she didn’t even want to be there in the first place.

She didn’t compete for a place in my mind

not like envy or hatred who eventually won out,

no.

She waited patiently for me until I believed all the other visitors had left

then she attacked me more viciously than any of the others had

Blinky

He came before the Parliament Seventy-five percent of his body Was skeletal

The other percent was recognizable Except singed and decaying

He was screaming A low pitched smoky cry To the skies above

She couldn't tell if he was angry or sorrowful But she knew the wails were sounds of Sounds of agony

The situation seemed like something Out of a horror film That was the point

The image of a zombified koala screaming in agony Is a distressing one

He came before Parliament for a reason He came with a message, a reminder, The incarnation of the billions of animals lost

To the bushfires And the habitat so ravaged by flames

She found herself Drawn to dolls but moreso To a pair of twins

One named "Sunny" And the other dubbed "Luna"

In them, she saw two halves Two halves of her being

At one point, she was like "Sunny" Optimistic and exuberant Even sharing similar interests

But that part of her died

Died and became eclipsed Gone was her "sunny" side What came was a husk

A shadowy husk of dimmed light

She became cynical and (less than) halfhearted A seething dislike of "sunny" people (Sunny, the doll, however, is more endearing)

Always in the shadows Practically unseen

At least, she'd muse, Luna's eyes sparkle. Though, the light in her own had dimmed

In a sense, she was divided in two The parts of her that died And the part that would eclipse them

The dolls are twins As different as their namesakes In memories, Sunny was the girl she was

A poem specifically about bed rotting and my experience with it, as well as mental health’s effect and how it can get out of control for the victim

She hated mirrors Not for what it was, of course not But because of what it showed

Mirrors showed what was true Thus, her reflection hid no secrets It showed what she had seen

She saw her reflection glaring, sneering, and snickering at her Bloody and covered in bruises Horrifically marred, almost to the point of death

To put it simply, decay was what she had seen

In every mirror, she had seen decay Seeing that image mock her again and again Yet, she never brought herself to destroy them

The mirrors showed what she wanted to deny And what many others didn't seem to see Mirrors showed the truth

Quietly, she begged them to stop tormenting her

For she didn't want to admit it She didn't want to see it for herself The decay