The Monster in the Mirror
When I look at myself
cold in the morning
the monster’s sister
looks right back.
These hazel eyes
I got them from my father.
I have been stitched
together from the dead.
But I have drunk the wine,
drunk it down and put
the stopper back in the bottle.
None shall come after me
to see their make-up
in the mirror.
It all ends here.
If every mind event
is a brain event
then I’m here
behind the eyes.
Sometimes I leap
into the realisation
like a big cat.
If I didn’t know this
I would think I lived
further down; somewhere
more low-slung, the pelvis
perhaps, or behind the heart,
where it hurts.
Sally Warrell has been writing since childhood. She has a BA in English and Philosophy from Aberystwyth. Her collection Cherry Pie and other poems is available on Amazon. She is a regular reader at https://poetryaloud.org.uk/ Twitter handle @Sally_Warrell