The Inside Void and the Written Line - a Poem of Catharsis

A gaping chasm
shaped exactly like me
clings closer than a shadow.
Too many touches,
too many sweaty fumblings
as I helplessly cried.
A sucking void exists
where a little girl should be.

I caught a glimpse
of something in the mirror
that I don't want to kill.
For an instant
a terrified child
stared out of my reflection.

Words pour from my fingers
like pus from a septic wound
as I press harder
against the ragged,
broken parts of my self.
I drain the infection
and vomit the poison
that took residence
in my mind,
transform it into art -
black and white marks
on a screen.
My own words
laid end to end
form a lifeline
I extend to the little girl
I thought I saw in the mirror.