A crack in my mirror, right in the centre
splits my image into a thousand pieces
versions of myself never quite realised
all that I am and all that I could be
each fragment a glimpse into a path not chosen
fingers reaching out to touch the glass
dipping into the reflection, a pool of possibility
if only I could crawl through the looking glass
or break on through to the other side
would I miss this place
am I happier there

It’s so loud out here
my edges curl  
and shrivel inward until I am
quiet
the thick bones of my neck collapse
weary from holding up a head
that wants to bow over in despair
but there is a tug
on my heartstrings
and it leads me to the surface
where all the wars are fought
“this is not where you belong”
it whispers
and takes my hand
to guide me under again
“here, where roots are deep, this is the refuge you seek.”

Esther Krenzin

“He looks homeless”
“Can she speak English?”
“It’s hard to take her seriously”

These thoughts have always been with me
Steeped into my thoughts
Into my beliefs
Into my actions

They hide around the corners of my mind
Always part of the background
Or they are front and center
Impossible to unsee

Sometimes I can label them in the moment
Classist
Racist
Sexist

Sometimes I can only see their influence with the distance of time
Or through another’s eyes

Where do they come from
How do they shape me
How do they shape everyone around me

How much of my essence is mine?
How many of my thoughts originate outside of me?

I think I’ll never fully know

All I can do
All we can do

Is label
Set aside
And look again

I learned the true beauty of the darkness
How awe-inspiring it was
When my shadow took the lead
And brought me to my clarity

I am in search of myself.
Tell me if you find even a glimpse

I am the confident one strutting in the sunshine.
Or am I the shadow lurking in the rims?

I am the sky engulfing all the emotions.
Or am I the weather yet another passing phase?
Mirroring the emotion of people around me,
An empty shell my inner pearl I chase.

Stop my traces from fading.
Stop me from changing again.
All I want is to feel something.
a chill, a thrill, but never mundane...

All I want is to search myself,
Before my identity is forever in eclipse.
Guide me how, guide me now or,
Tell me if you find even a glimpse.

I pluck my flowers everyday
easy to wither away
the garderns' getting older
and the grass live a little longer;
the flowers' have withered away
the gardens' barren again.
lifes' a muse.
call for the bail,
the sins that i commit while i live
are only going to lead me to death.

In the dressing room-
Mirror upon mirror,
Folded just right,
Creating a continuum
Of dimensions in which
I stand in silent observation,
Am I the man I see
(Or wish I saw)
Or am I merely A man-
Like any other?

Over time I dissolve,
My vision shattering me
Into the parts that
Make up my body-
The veins on the back of my hand,
The knuckle dislocated, offset
By some long-forgotten
Trauma ignited by an impotent rage
At not having the right words-
The brown in my eye that reflects
The look of a father who gifted
Me this, and nothing else.
The creases that time has carved
In my smile-
A testament to the unforgiving
Desert sun’s ability
To break me down-
To the heart’s inability
To ever truly forgive,
Let alone forget.
Am I not greater than the sum
Of these parts?

I am all that the mirrors
Reflect upon themselves,
The testament to
What air and heat and gravity
Have imposed upon me.
But within the blood
coursing beneath
The skin, lives every song
That broke me, every poem
That fractured me,
Every sunrise I waited up
For, to tuck me in,
Every ocean wave that
Moved my small
insignificant self
Along the grainy
unforgiving strand,
Every kiss that destroyed me,
In the most perfect of ways-
And in those I am not
Merely a man-
I just Am.

For a moment--
            
                         I was sad that he left me.


But then I realized--


                          It was I who left him.