Mirror by Khushnoom Merchant
I'm not good with eye contact.
Or at least that’s what I told you.
The truth is I hesitate,
Because you’re too familiar.
I see all of them in you.
All the faces i’ve been forced to forget.
It's an addiction of sorts.
Fingerprints leave marks that never fade.
The withdrawals leave me craving more.
I don’t really know much about you.
But I’m familiar with the way you make me feel.
I hate it.
A lethal dose does nothing to soften the noise.
Because every pill leaves the same bitter aftertaste.
White knuckles and salty tears infest my supply.
Il use you to hurt myself.
Before you get to hurt me.
Il tear myself apart limb by limb.
And even when you leave.
As they always do.
I wont be alone.
Because I see you every time I look at him.
Or at least that’s what I told you.
The truth is I hesitate,
Because you’re too familiar.
I see all of them in you.
All the faces i’ve been forced to forget.
It's an addiction of sorts.
Fingerprints leave marks that never fade.
The withdrawals leave me craving more.
I don’t really know much about you.
But I’m familiar with the way you make me feel.
I hate it.
A lethal dose does nothing to soften the noise.
Because every pill leaves the same bitter aftertaste.
White knuckles and salty tears infest my supply.
Il use you to hurt myself.
Before you get to hurt me.
Il tear myself apart limb by limb.
And even when you leave.
As they always do.
I wont be alone.
Because I see you every time I look at him.
Khushnoom Merchant (she/her) is a psychology student at Simon Fraser University, living in Vancouver, British Columbia and just getting started with her poetry career. Previously a support worker, Khushnoom hopes to help others by sharing her story of mental illness, trauma and disability through her writing and work in the mental health field.
