Whole by Mindy Watson

Illustration by Arushi Gupta

“Skin deep, we carve our immeasurable sorrow in the fold of your shivering arms…”

—Dark Tranquillity

When the mirror’s cracked pane slits a hole

In your visage, and twists with untruth

Your contorted taut innards—when hate

Carves your core to a festering pulp,

And you deem yourself culpable—what

Can you do, but encircle that void

With your own empty arms, and recall

The dissembler who’d preyed on your trust?

He’d alleged you’d be safe if you pledged 

Secret love, so you’d choked down his lust.

Yet, in yielding, you’d swallowed yourself. 

Now a silver-tongued knife on your desk

Glibly glints, and his blade courts your lack:

Such