I am stood,
staring at myself in the mirror.
Everyone believes they are immune
to the difficulties of life.
We see global tragedies on the news
and shrug it off,
telling ourselves that it’ll never happen to us.
Everyone believes this,
until life comes along
and holds a knife to your throat
and pushes you towards the edge
and forces you to look at the harsh truth.
No one is out of reach of the whims of fortune.
Everyone is vulnerable to suffering,
and those predisposed to it
will always be hit the hardest.
I used to think that I was invincible,
that I had already been through enough already
and the universe would give me a break this time.
But this was never going to be the case
and I was a fool to think otherwise.
And now I am stood here,
and I no longer recognise my reflection.
My soft edges that I have battled to maintain
in a world of cruelty
have been whittled away by anger and nausea
and I am left sharp and abrasive.