Contemplating Thy Self

You walk past the place you met 
And the places you’ve been 
You see a car that looks like his,
and your face feels the sting
of the poison that falls from your eyes.
You let your sleeves wash it off.
It’s the same thing every night.

You walk past the tunnel of unwanted memory.
His charming smile,
but his scaly fingers 
His beautiful eyes,
but his sharp teeth,
His fine golden hair,
but his bark-like skin.

“She was forced! She was forced! She was forced!”
is what my mother would yell in the court room.
But it doesn’t matter.
You’re already cloned into something you’re not.
“A prostitute
stumbled through the dark abyss.”
That’s all they’ll ever see or hear.

Thou finish the day normally.
Leaves work, walking home.
Thou art not friendly.
Thou leave thy friend and say “good night,” 
Thou art alone.
Left with thy thoughts.
No one walks with thou EXCEPT
Thy shadows
of thy day dreams
contemplating thy self.