“Self-Portraits”
I.
She was a mean-spirited girl
electric to the touch and
smelling like protein.
She was a deep-seeded soul
wrapped around herself and
requiring too much care.
She was a grey-hearted muse
and a patron saint of
lost causes.
II.
She was:
a long-toothed spat
forbidden fruit
and a barrel of quinine.
A forgotten arboretum
full of black-spot roses
and an abandoned aviary
full of dead birds.
A lock without a key
and a key without a lock.
An upside-down smile
uneven graph paper
and faulty reception.
A paper-cut
a void of luck
and a twist tie to no end.
III.
She
was
and is
and shall always be
what she was
and is
and shall always be.
And to that she knows no better
and can do no better
but she can also do no worse
nor be the worse for wear.
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