Reflections - three times a day

i. 1930
I press one lid down and
line my eyes black thickly, darkly
till they look bigger than usual and
my lashes are lusciously curly, crimped with heat
from the hairdryer,
mascara-ed with waterproof ink -
I can see that they are now
framed well:
bigger, better, brighter.

ii. 0230
I stare at that strange girl who stares back,
who looks like she stepped out of a Tim Burton cartoon
with her huge, red swollen lips
big round half crazed eyes dark with pain
and skin bulging pink with alcohol:
they are are stricken with horror -
at the indian man in her hazy memory
the jug of vodka redbull
the throbbing in her ears
the distinct sensation of forgetting
and the horror of the ugly image she sees
of herself,
not herself.

iii. 1230
By daylight, normalcy has crept back
through the curtains and the windows and the grill
and the bath and the wash up and the water
has cleaned away the corruption of the night.
What remains are:
the smell of vomit
lids heavy with heat
the bloated image in her mind's eye
and souls temporarily blessed
with a drugged nothingness.