Tuesday. No sleep.
I look in the mirror
angry cold sweat that
speaks of the night:
my grandad.
Wednesday. Flashback.
I look in the mirror
back at failing to pull
down a too short skirt:
sit in my lap?
Thursday. Nightmares.
I look in the mirror
to his face in shadows
as he sat on my bed:
be a good girl.
Friday. Hangover.
I look in the mirror
I look in the mirror
I look in the mirror:
one more blackout.
Saturday. Funerals.
I look in the mirror
for my game face
and smudge my grin:
spitting out at last!
Sunday. Rest in pieces.
I did not look in
the mirror when
I cut the black drapes:
7 years bad luck.
Monday. Aftermath.
I look in the mirror
checking for tears
that will never flow:
He is dead.
