It’s 1994 and I am
Turning four and Kurt
Cobain has recently
Holed himself up and got a
Hole in the head, either
Put it there himself or his
Wife arranged the details.
I was not aware of any of this,
Only four and the biggest
Meteor in my life was my parents’
I remember, possibly the
First thing I remember,
Standing in front of the big
Mirror in their bedroom with my hand on the glass,
Wanting to step through to the other side.
I looked at the thin strip of nothing between
My hand and my hand’s
Reflection and wondered what
Made up that space, it never occurred to me then that it was
Just the mirror.
My husband held our
Foster dog, the one with
Thin limbs and
In front of the wall of mirrors in the
Bedroom of my new apartment.
Look at yourself. It’s
Neko. Why does she look at you
Before she looks at herself? He walked her
Closer so her nose was touching the nose of the
Thing she didn’t want to see.
Her reflection locked eyes with me.
I didn’t say, didn’t want to say,
That maybe she doesn’t want to see.
Maybe it’s easier for her to
Live in her body than
Look at it.
Maybe that was
Kurt’s problem too, he didn’t
Want to look but the world kept
Inching him closer to the mirror saying,
Look at yourself. Why don’t you
Want to see?