Who are you?

SadPoetTree Poems

I peel open sleepy lids and roll over, As vision clears a thousand hours of 2 second dreams from my eyes my first thought; who are you? I climb up from my bed, who’s soft embrace betrays the horrors that lay within, pull over my nightgown, thin. A silken touch of finery. A lie, a hope it would refine me. Traipse, do I, through cold and lonely corridors, head tilted down, pushing through a gale of memories and half stories. Suddenly fascinated by my slippers. I glance up briefly, look at the figure staring back at me. Sudden my mind a torrent, maelstrom, gyre. My soul a fire that burns a beacon to the figure, a funeral pyre of sorts. I dip my head once more, a whisper; ‘Who are you?’ Familiarity brims at the corners of my mind, while tiny little insects chew away at the edges of my sanity. I dip my head again. Vanity was never one of mine. The door to the bathroom presents itself, a mahogany monolith, a sentinel of secrets guarding the smeared lines between fact and fiction. ‘You can do this’ A diction I utter, as I twist the **** and push to door. Shatter the monolith. The smeared lines become kaleidoscopes. My vision blurs, my hands, they shake. My slippers suddenly become riveting. A trope, a day to day, nothing new. Deep breath in, deep breath out. I step through the door, brace against the sink, raise my head and stare. I stare at the eternal and never ending eyes of the stranger in front of me. Their gaze burns through mine. I steel myself, and look into my eyes. ‘Who am I?’ The glass shatters. The world falls away. I knew this would happen.