12/03/97 "After the Fire" I feel weakened, in a way waiting for you to call I am already sick and sleep has disowned me No rest for the wicked seems a bit harsh But sometimes, I remember despite myself, I regret The woman in the mirror that shadow self of mine I was uncertain in the change wary, perhaps, of what I might lose I chose, somehow, to lose it all and gain nothing in return On my rush to the fall I only looked down at the edge And when I looked behind found I had outrun my heart All who tried to stop me, left behind everyone I needed, forsaken And now when I look back I remember only pieces Blackened bits of mirror, charred begging to be gathered up again © Andrea K