Reflection
Whenever I've been alone, you've always been there,
for years, barely changing, in so many places...
Beyond the lid of the jewelery box, waiting in the glass of the hallway picture frame,
inside the facets of crystals...
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As the years passed, I watched you wither, watched you die.
Into the mirror, I watched your eyes lose their soul,
saw their light disappear as they went hollow,
your face set in soft stone, as your darkness spread like lethal infection.
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As I gazed at you, behind panes of glass,
your heart began to die, already punctured and bleeding,
it began to slow and freeze over, even as tears fell from you eyes.
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In the window of my mind, you were there,
your life-blood spilled through halls, on floors, fingerprints on doors,
splashed against the panes of crystal through which I gazed,
your face devoid of life, the mask of death...
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Your face was mine.
Reflection
One of my more disturbing poems, or so I've been told (nothing compared to "Last Will and Testament", I think). My mother cried when she read this- that's why I rarely show adults (or anyone) my poetry. I'll be using ---- to separate stanzas, since quizilla won't let me do it with spaces. Also- touch nothing, this is a personal poem (aren't they all?)Did you like this poem? Write one of your own!
