Shy Words & Broken Mirrors

I am not just facing a blank document, I am staring into a mirror.

My reluctance is a palpable fear, forcing my fingers to stiffen

Afraid of seeing myself scattered about in words on pages

Being read by the famished eyes of hungry strangers.

As they write reviews suggesting I edit my soul, I cringe.

The realist shit is riddled with errors, jilted and stained with salty tears.

I don’t want you to read me

I want you to feel me

Come along, don’t be afraid to walk barefoot on my broken glass.

By Janell Hihi


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