And I felt seated
in a room of five hundred
living, breathing mannequins.

They stared forward,
chatting amongst themselves
with plastic faces
and polyester mouths.

To be reflections of people
who weren't truly there
Am I also one of those?
Am I the only one who is?

The fire beckons me in.
Offering warmth,
but bringing betrayal.

I don’t move from the flame.
It stings greatly,
but I’d still rather be warm