the idea of invisibility

visibly pretty
she brushes her hair
in a mirror that
rarely tells the truth.
quick eye flicks
catch just enough
to inform the extreme.

she’s seen it in the media
read the mocking analogies
but cannot face the sadness
of a life lived in imitation,
(and the mirror is still unwatchable)
learning that life is exactly like
a box of chocolates, which
is all about sorrow and gluttony
and lack of self control.

she’s finished fantasizing
minor love affairs with
emaciated popstars
to hang out in bars
for the disasters to follow,
drinking til her skin
has a pulse
and her nipples match her
eyelids, red and swollen.

then like a magicians trick

that goes horribly wrong
she take the idea of
invisibility
one step too far
on the outer ledge
of an inner city building
“beautiful girl in mystery fall’
the dreadful headline will say.
disappearing into the moment
the next step is easy.