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Mark Wanless Aug 28
a mirror is by nature
distortion of perception
water bucket moon
SF Aug 23
Soy yo, y ¿Que más da?
Me miró al espejo y odio mi aspecto,
Bueno, quien soy mejor dicho
Y por la clase d persona que me he convertido

Rompo el espejo por miedo,
Miedo a saber que de verdad soy así
Huyó del reflejo, de las miradas de todos,
Basta, yo se quién soy y quién fui

¿Se pueden callar?
Solo quiero respirar y volar
Llora y reír
Cantar y brillar

Sin embargo el pasado me ha de abrazar
Y yo he de mirar
Ver en qué me convertí
Y ver cómo me marchite
I saw a madman
walking in the middle of the road. At first, I thought
he was a stranger— a figure broken loose from the world.
But then I realized: it was only me, the reflection
of myself wandering in the middle of my thoughts.

Perhaps...

I was lost in the endless expanse of my nonbeing,
caught between the idea of living and the weight
of simply being. A human being, maybe only as a
reflection in the mirror, the real self— a madman
trying to repair his mind, patching every pothole
in the road with trembling hands, covering cracks
no one else can see.

And I wonder, which is worse:
the madness of walking alone in the street, or the
silence of pretending there was never a fracture
beneath my skin.
Soul trespasser...
You long for splendour...
You are one of those who yearns for one-off occasions to chase after you.
You’re remembering someone’s secret celebration in a place of strange perfection...
A child that partied all night, became their own bartender and private dancer...

That unique hotel’s façade declared adventure...
But now there is a window to a dark wall of desire.
Hungering for some old, solid friend there...
You await their return, and when they do, you’re still lingering... wanting their whispers to declare...
That this room has the very best view and mirror with you in it... For a life that feeds you more than you can chew...

You’ll risk it. Won’t look back on that wardrobe journey... You’ve packed your bags, opened up in a new strange surge of wellbeing.

Cobwebs from years of wild, winding worries – clear –
As the brightest sun discovers you...
On a functional vacation, joining the dots to a person... who no longer needs to fear or hear... or acknowledge you’re there...
girlinflames Oct 2
Do you crave attention?
Is that why you play the influencer—
not because you have something to give,
but because something is missing.

Applause.
Adoration.
Affection.
Love.

But you cannot fake influence,
you cannot pretend to be what you are not.
Makeup fades.
And at the end of the day,
when the mirror stares back,
you still hate yourself—
and everyone has already forgotten
girlinflames Aug 11
i’ve cried so much today
that when i looked in the mirror
it didn’t recognize me
Jeremy Betts Aug 10
I am the jagged reflection of a broken mirror
A fractured representation of hopelessness and fear
Nothing in front of me,
Only unbridled despair catching up from the rear
And I don't have another gear
So casually it's told to me
That it's so easy
But easy isn't described so easily
Comfort torn apart with a frenzy,
Pulled out from under me
Left with nothing
Just an emptiness that feeds the suffering
To move on I need,
~"I AM IN NEED"~
Of some kind of buffering
But no one is listening
So I have to ask,
"Do I want to move on...?"
What an impossible question
I must have missed some crucial lesson
Can not find the life or death connection
But life's not kind,
There is no rewind
In a human mind
That's something you can't find
Thankfully I do not sit alone, it's me and depression
A dysfunctional concoction
But it seems to be my only connection
To my reflection

©2025
I feel fractured.
Fractured into a million pieces.
Like the mirror that was hit
Or the bowl that was dropped.
Now I kneel on the floor,
Staring at the pieces.
How do I fix it?
Can I fix it with gold?
Like the ancient art of kintsugi?
But what if I can’t find the gold?
What if I continue to kneel
In the fractured pieces of my soul.
The pieces that continue to cut deep.
Because I am fractured,
Fractured into a million pieces.
instant chemistry,
instant spark.
new person, new topics, new feelings
yet somehow, it feels as if we’ve already met.
a familiarity in you that I see in me, too.
common interests, humour, and laughs,
the only two things that separate us
are gender and heart.

a newfound bond,
a connection I already see
shining strong and true.
you see me, and I see you
our real selves, transparent and clear,
as if we read each other fluently.

it hasn’t been long since actually knowing you,
yet it feels like I’ve known you my whole life.

our friendship still new, still beaming, hopefully true
but with misread signals and miscommunication,
each falling for someone,
but I thought you liked me.
you didn’t know I liked you.

feeling like an idiot
hurt and annoyed.
after feeling it all, I realised
my feelings were real, but untrue.

I like you a lot,
but not how I thought I did.
I thought I had a romantic crush on you,
but I have a crush on you as a person,
as a friend.

and I’m so glad we’ve met now
and get to live this life together,
finally having someone
who sees our real selves,
finally seeing something deeper
than the reflection in a mirror.
This is a poem about meeting someone new, who i connected with on a new level. This is about someone who gets every reference, knows every feeling and knows every song. Someone who finally justifys me, and makes me feel seen
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