Between me and the foggy reflection of whom I think I should be
Are hues of metallic pink and turquoise
Swirling like an oil slick over the handle
And up my arm as I try bringing thoughts to my mouth
As I eat what others dish out and gag silently as I swallow
Words that aren’t mine
They will never know how I talk or what I think because
I don’t allow
I don’t know how
So I put the knife down
Beside my spoon
And pray that I will someday hear myself
Cecilia Leigh 