Mirror
when the mirror shatters
I don't clean it up for days
let the shards nest in carpet fibers
like all the times you taught me
silence is easier than speaking
your genetic fingerprints
are mapped across my face
I hate the way my laugh escapes in your baritone
or how they say I'll mellow like you did
as if your "mellowing" didn't cost
two marriages and
my childhood
I swallow rage like medicine
let it burn holes in my stomach
while you sleep peaceful in
your new life with
your new family
who never saw you throw
a television through a wall
they tell me I have your eyes
your hands
your temper
but they never saw me
methodically break
every plate in the house
one
by
one
my anger isn't your hand-me-down
it's an art form I perfected
while you were busy
erasing me
from your history
Georgia Coomer is a senior at Lindenwood University in Saint Charles, Missouri, pursuing a degree in English with a Creative Writing emphasis. Her poetry and prose have appeared in Arrow Rock, JustACuppaLit, and Bill Geblato’s Lotto Gelato Grotto. When not wrestling semicolons into submission, she can be found playing any Atlus game and whispering to neighborhood cats.
The Albion Review 