Inside I squirm.
Doubt draws her blade
across my mind,
stings.
Reality seeps out
painful to witness,
the wound too deep to stem.

Cowering behind the sofa,
stupid inner woman.
Only goading thoughts
in this borrowed body of mine.
My reflection stares vacantly,
waiting for a golden age.
Outwardly intact,
merciless inside.

My ineptitude,
my fear of decision,
the knowledge of it all
saddens me