In Rainbows

in my first sociology tutorial

‘the looking glass self’

was introduced

that’s me

one who is made of others

four years ago a classmate called me ‘honey’

so foreign amongst the toxicity

that only fourteen year old’s can amass

now I call her, call our friends honey

as we plan our next girls trip

to the city

or to the beach

my mother has picked and bitten at her nails

since I could crawl

she warned me

but as I write I stare at my hands

bloody and raw

they match with hers

my best friend prefers animals to humans

so I slide stiff sheets of paper

under my roommates glass

the huntsman lives another day

or we fish frogs out of her pool

smiling gleefully

as they hop into the foliage

my newest friend has an abrupt speech pattern

fitful even

when he calls I catch myself

pausing just the way he does

wrapped up in conversations with others

I wonder if they note

how I can no longer speak rhythmically

I kiss the way my first love taught me

much to the other boys dismay

too much of this

or not enough of that

but I am stuck in his ways

at ten years old my father played radiohead

on repeat

hours of ‘in rainbows’ on long drives

I tracked the blur of trees with my young eyes

And begged for him to switch it off

Now I sit alone behind the wheel

While his music plays on a loop

for how could I not be unique

when I made up of so many other people

every day I am shaped

I am formed

a mosaic human, silver glass engulfing my body

an ephemeral reflection

when you look at me

you will see yourself staring back