The exhale of breath in the air
The shriek of no words
Only noise
Putting hairs on end.
Hand prints on a mirror,
Not knowing how they got there,
Like they climbed upon
Invisible,
Stairs,
Reflections not of my own
Teasing me with opened mouths
Silence,
Quite,
Deafening,
Noise heard there,
But mouths closed shut,
Light refracts
Light absorbed to no where
The reflections
Alive,
Caporal,
Reflections
Inanimate no longer
They follow, filling with terror,
My waking day,
For everywhere reflects
Light
They will be seen,
I have burnt a hundred times,
But no scares, just the pain inside,
They show what was, and store
The image to release the
Pain of all who died,
They release there
Anger,
Pain,
Hate,
To who ever touches their surface,
They are watched from,
The reflection of pain
That must be shared on the other side...
Freaked me out writing this in the dark with two large mirrors in the dark..