Poemetry by T.A. Barnhart


my 42-inch monitor
sits directly across
from where i sit.
the power is off.
my face reflects clearly
on the shiny black surface.
i look to the side, down,
out the window;
anywhere but straight ahead.
anywhere but at my own face.
i close my eyes
while brushing my teeth,
avoiding the mirror
at all costs.
avoiding the sight
of my own face.
of me.
the person i hate most,
the person responsible
for this miserable life.
my face
is the ugliest thing
i see,
and i do not know
why people do not thank me
for sparing them
that sight.
i hide away
for you, too;
you could show
a little gratitude.

┬ęTA Barnhart August 13, 2020