By Regan McVicar-MacMullin
if you can't see it
or feel its defined edges
is it imaginary?
the black hole is deep
nestled in your grey matter
eating away at your sanity
your retinas relay
an image twisted and distorted
stretched like a circus mirror
standards of beauty
an unclimbable mountain
its snowy peak just as bleak as the
trench below
a smile with sunken eyes
cheek bones: shadows
thin wrists like swaying branches
trembling with anxiety
it's too much all at once
and the fear consumes all
the psychological
creates the physical
imaginary to real like a ghost come
to life
or feel its defined edges
is it imaginary?
the black hole is deep
nestled in your grey matter
eating away at your sanity
your retinas relay
an image twisted and distorted
stretched like a circus mirror
standards of beauty
an unclimbable mountain
its snowy peak just as bleak as the
trench below
a smile with sunken eyes
cheek bones: shadows
thin wrists like swaying branches
trembling with anxiety
it's too much all at once
and the fear consumes all
the psychological
creates the physical
imaginary to real like a ghost come
to life