I felt myself split in two one quiet summer night.

Sitting in a strange bedroom, doing homework
doomscrolling

She appeared then:
Sitting cross-legged on the carpet opposite me
my mirror image. however 

I became afraid of her black eyes 
of the words I didn’t have to explain her
existence and better yet to send her away

I had checked every box in pen:
Desperate. I counted painstakingly on my fingers:
I had done it all right (or in hindsight, perhaps I had only done alright)

I checked every box to see where I fit,
to wall her out, her and her black eyes
and I wept like a child on the strange bedroom floor

because
She would not go away
because
She was my Self

because
Her eyes were not black
because 
They were mirrors

and I saw my Self
beyond the boundaries of arbitrary boxes
flourishing, basking in the sunlight
beaming like a weed
pushed up triumphantly 
through concrete