Poetry

Parting the Cracked Glass

By Wallace - 7 March 08

Mirror mirror on this wall
I can't seem to find my face
Am I lucid? Awake?
Why do I disintegrate
When I touch the silver surface
Slither through, slip into
The other side

So cold within
I know I've died, yet here
Is where I remain
Why don't I disappear?
Not even my despair
Can repair my disgrace
Nothing can start this lifeless heart
Nor replace the lives I must take
The innocent blood I taste
Each day

I trace
My finger along the cracked glass
Thinking back to when
A simple cut, a slash
On my skin would make me cringe
The very sight of blood
I would turn away
Now, the very nourishment
I crave
Without it I go insane

Everything was about me
Never considered another
No true friend nor lover
Any tears I cried were for me
Fixated on my pain

To be or not to be
Without meaning for me
If I must endure
Without living, without seeing
Never believing, always deceiving

Narcissism, sin, self-loathing my skin
A wolf wearing a wolf's clothing
Never pretending to care
While pretending I was someone
Deeper
But no content fills the hole
The void only empty, bleak
Without dreams, leaving nothing
As I am no-one at all

So mirror mirror on the wall
What is the point of being beautiful
When I can't even see my face
I can't reason
Can't think; can't float away
Only able to slide into you
To take others through
Then when I do, I seal
Their doom