your shadow twice as long

by Enna Horn

You scrape your fingers against the glass.  

A dull hope flickering within your ribcage,  

it illumines, reflects; a slice of light against the wall.  

Here, a gilded border, your shadow twice as long.  

A dull hope flickering within your ribcage,  

so a depression warps the image beside you.  

Here, a gilded border, your shadow twice as long,  

in the room with the yellow wallpaper, the crooked door.  

So a depression warps the image beside you,  

the phantom of the canary soul begs for release.  

In the room with the yellow wallpaper, the crooked door  

opening wide, baring sharp teeth to your apparition there.  

The phantom of the canary soul begs for release,  

as you observe yourself, observing yourself.  

Opening wide, baring sharp teeth to your apparition there,  

you scrape your fingers against the glass. 

Enna Horn is an author, poet, and polyglot living somewhere in midwestern America. If they don't have their hand to the pen, they can be found with their hand to the plough. Sometimes, they haunt Twitter @inkhallowed. Most times, though, they're just haunting your mirror.