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Saturday, April 05, 2008

Staring At Myself

The more I see,
The more I'm blind.
Looking in the mirror,
Hoping to find,
A familiar self, the one I left behind.

Eyes staring back.
Cold familiarity.
I seem to know,
This harsh reality.
Not recognizing the person I'm supposed to be.

Resting, holding on,
Pushing out against the wall.
Breathing heavy. Mind so light.
Thinking things through.
Taking it slowly. Making things right.

Quivering lips, forcing a smile.
What joy is this? Why now?
In the silence, a sense of humor.
When is it sane, to be me?
To be because of sheer necessity.

My mind is splashing
Frantically in its quiet prison.
Fighting against the currents
That keep pulling me down.
Shouting, crying, long into the night.

Long drawn out breath.
Letting it eat me away.
Letting it take control,
As my heart thumps a little softer.

Now, in the darkness,
I make out a silhouette.
An outline of a master plan
Gone wrong in the execution,
Of this grand, illustrious life.

I pick up the towel,
To wipe my face dry.
Salty, sweaty fragrance,
Reminds me of my fear.
These precious, stolen moments with myself.

Staring at myself.
Peering into my soul.
Looking hard at those dead eyes.
Looking close at my frowning brow.
Learning to be real. Wanting to be me.

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