When the other side knocks first,
Do you touch the glass...or step through.
Where teapot stain the tablecloth,
And riddles never quite apease.
As the clock in the pocket loses logic,
You're always late you see.
And it's hands spin widdershins.
Each minute drips like jam on toast,
As reason gets up and leaves.
With sugar cubes in a hat not a bowl,
A madman sits and taps a spoon upon his skull.
Who knocks louder?
The silence, or the door that isn't there?
Three breaths from the kettle,
And checkered tablecloth expands.
Now there upon it the queen still stands,
While her knights bend knees...or it's heads she'll demand.
The veil between grows thin,
And suddenly you're in your bedroom.
Yet so are they.
They ask which world you meant to choose,
And why you chose at all-
If here was there and there was here.
The tilted walls begin to lean,
Unsure what lies within.
And even so the cat just grins.
Yet though the room is yours again,
The grin just never fades.
For in two worlds with crooked walls,
Your choice was never made.
And somewhere in the corner's hush,
The teacup starts to break.
-FairyHeart
In the hush
of the mirror.
Mar 18
Mar 18, 2026 at 5:49 AM UTC
When the other side knocks first,
Do you touch the glass...or step through.
Where teapot stain the tablecloth,
And riddles never quite apease.
As the clock in the pocket loses logic,
You're always late you see.
And it's hands spin widdershins.
Each minute drips like jam on toast,
As reason gets up and leaves.
With sugar cubes in a hat not a bowl,
A madman sits and taps a spoon upon his skull.
Who knocks louder?
The silence, or the door that isn't there?
Three breaths from the kettle,
And checkered tablecloth expands.
Now there upon it the queen still stands,
While her knights bend knees...or it's heads she'll demand.
The veil between grows thin,
And suddenly you're in your bedroom.
Yet so are they.
They ask which world you meant to choose,
And why you chose at all-
If here was there and there was here.
The tilted walls begin to lean,
Unsure what lies within.
And even so the cat just grins.
Yet though the room is yours again,
The grin just never fades.
For in two worlds with crooked walls,
Your choice was never made.
And somewhere in the corner's hush,
The teacup starts to break.
-FairyHeart
In the hush
of the mirror.
