Jan 2013
I am emotionless. Indifferent.
Gazing in the mirror before me, I make eye contact with the reflection
Yet...
I feel nothing. There is no connection between what I see and what I am. Total detachment.
I blink; I breathe.
Just watching myself from a distance.
I've gone blank.
No longer are there sparks beneath my skin.
In my eyes the light is gone.
All that remain are black bottomless pits.
The story behind them fights to stay alive.
I cannot call this person staring back at me myself.
If so, the truth must be mistaken.
Please?
How can this person
Thriving on past anger and hate
Be the young creature once perceived as a mixture of happiness, solitude, and stability?
A mind once holding hope, now contains despair.
The girl I look at appears lost or dazed
Maybe imagining she is within some strange galaxy where she can be rediscovered.
Still her entity lingers
Searching for something.
For what once was and never will be.
How can this cloak of loss and unfathomable emptiness be described to one who does not understand?
To one who still has hope?
It's as if this past self of mine, who was once calm and carefree, simply stares back at me from the eyes of this new empty hopeless fool.
The entity of life and emotion once dwelling there has stopped rattling her cages.
'She' is now just another glimmering streak to float about and be forgotten.
Where is the energy and vitality that once pulsed through the veins of this innocent young woman?
Has she discovered a nonexistent fate?
An addition to this madness?
It is a brutal crime done to oneself.
She will not tire or wake from this haze until someone containing light can reach her;
Clutch her by her strings and make her move, for she is a lifeless puppet.
The crank on her back has turned one time too many, and she is giving up.
Stopping point blank on the path that was headed for the future.
Where to go now?
Warm and joyful memories glide by and leave, but there is no urge to smile.
When will this person staring back at me succumb this brutal cycle?
She is not one to know, for she is a warp of empty.
Gazing in the mirror before me, I make eye contact with the reflection
Yet...
I feel nothing. There is no connection between what I see and what I am. Total detachment.
I blink; I breathe.
Just watching myself from a distance.
I've gone blank.
No longer are there sparks beneath my skin.
In my eyes the light is gone.
All that remain are black bottomless pits.
The story behind them fights to stay alive.
I cannot call this person staring back at me myself.
If so, the truth must be mistaken.
Please?
How can this person
Thriving on past anger and hate
Be the young creature once perceived as a mixture of happiness, solitude, and stability?
A mind once holding hope, now contains despair.
The girl I look at appears lost or dazed
Maybe imagining she is within some strange galaxy where she can be rediscovered.
Still her entity lingers
Searching for something.
For what once was and never will be.
How can this cloak of loss and unfathomable emptiness be described to one who does not understand?
To one who still has hope?
It's as if this past self of mine, who was once calm and carefree, simply stares back at me from the eyes of this new empty hopeless fool.
The entity of life and emotion once dwelling there has stopped rattling her cages.
'She' is now just another glimmering streak to float about and be forgotten.
Where is the energy and vitality that once pulsed through the veins of this innocent young woman?
Has she discovered a nonexistent fate?
An addition to this madness?
It is a brutal crime done to oneself.
She will not tire or wake from this haze until someone containing light can reach her;
Clutch her by her strings and make her move, for she is a lifeless puppet.
The crank on her back has turned one time too many, and she is giving up.
Stopping point blank on the path that was headed for the future.
Where to go now?
Warm and joyful memories glide by and leave, but there is no urge to smile.
When will this person staring back at me succumb this brutal cycle?
She is not one to know, for she is a warp of empty.
Long, I know. Oddly enough, this was found in an old notebook I forgot even existed. Not my best, but it's something I will keep.
