I smear

the ivory powder of my past across my face,

paying close attention to cover

the misled secrets of my expression with its ghostly façade.

I smother

the blood red over my cold lips,

its murmur eternally sewed shut

by the whispers that surround my history

and hover over my present.

I redraw

the misleading paths that I have taken,

I blacken these paths,

and I etch

the darkness of my mistakes,

my failures,

my falls,

onto the hooded window of my soul,

leaving the view clouded.

I conceal

the scars

that threaten to tear apart

the hope that is dying on the inside.

In vain

I stare into the mirror,

Perceiving the invisible,

Dreaming the unthinkable.

I want not, I feel not, I see not,

the reflection of an existence

but

the skeleton in my boudoir.

Kirsten Klein is a psychology freshman and can be reached at [email protected]

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Applications for the Spring 2014 serial are now being accepted.