Sally Schism Poem by Raj Dronamraju

She has small feet
She has mental illness
She lives in the front room near where they stack old newspapers

She has time and she has toast
She complains the water heater in the bathroom isn't working
She grits her teeth when splashing ice cold water on herself

She sits on the floor and looks at herself in a handheld mirror
She has crows feet around her eyes despite just being on the cusp of thirty
She is splattered with freckles as if they were shot out of a child's BB gun

They say she can't make good decisions about her life
Friday night, she sings loudly and out of tune after one beer
Fill in the name of the male lead who she is messy with this week

The android boss sends his most holy orders
Turns the handle and draws the reluctant towards him
She needs the buried under dullness taken twice a day in order to be part of this

She buys used books and scratches herself reflexively
Finds order resonates but it's hard to put it all together
Measures medications to achieve the right mix of herself and what society demands of herself