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I gaze into the eternity beyond pupils dilation
Where soul has lost sole control of the spirit
And the darkness that grips twists the mind
Warping memories into incoherent phantoms
Wailing in anguish as I brush them aside

Gazing deeper,
Beyond the pale of of my mortal coil
Searching for an answer that nature neglects
Written not in emerald green starbursts,
Shrouded by grey washed blue skys,
But further, beyond the heavens
Where night stretches beyond Terra Firma
And empty space reigns in perpetual waltz
Aging as my eye progresses towards the birth
When light was given life and purity was pure
Before the infection of the question
That has no answer

Nor did it need,
For there I found looking back as if a mirror
My reflection staring at itself in amazement
For I had solved the theory of everything
By knowing thyself… beyond myself
Malia 5d
Oops, I edit
As I go,
I take a step
Then erase it.
It’s counterproductive,
Don’t I know,
But I see the flaw
Then I chase it.
It won’t go away
‘Til the mirror is shattered,
Whether or not
It actually matters.

So I’ll cut and I’ll add
I’ll rewrite, double back
Only hoping that you’ll
Love what’s left
In the end.
Zack Ripley Feb 25
History is like a mirror;
the closer you look,
the more you'll see things
that you don't want to see.
The more distorted the picture becomes.
But, if it's your history you're looking at,
the distortion offers a rare chance.
A chance to change the way
you look at your past.
neth jones Feb 18
a troubled little wisp of waxy death   punches from my lips
(is it the exhaust   from many thriving microorganisms ?)
there it is   a clearly visible tiny cloud formation
(is this an indication?... the breaking down my over ripened form ?)
married also is its appearance  in the bathroom mirror
(confirmation that   it is no illusion)

i was quite casual about the event (thank you)
but not enough
              to stop me noting it here ;
call it   'the death weather report'
it shall be journaled further
i already feel observed
   as though by some bored student mortician
Jeremy Betts Feb 6
I don't mock the prison that is religion I unapologetically hold up a mirror to it 
I call it's bull shiit with the confidence to challenge the pulpit with nothing pre writ
I fear no holy punishment, don't acknowledge your judgement
And you can miss me with that covenant, I didn't have any part in it
I don't agree with what it represents and how gods "followers" use this religious content
Explain to me how this isn't viewed as a crime syndicate
Call him down here for one sec, clear this up with the public
The fact that nobody's done it only exposes some of the slight of hand, silver tongue magic
Turns suspect real quick, I've lost any and all respect
Your guys not the guy, I don't buy the lie
If any of 'em believe in what they say and read, they should be in a panic
Basically, if believers believe then they would live life far different
And be open to conversation instead of jumping straight into argument

©2024
nora Jan 31
I watch her watch herself,
pale, slender fingers pressed against her flat stomach.
She gives an uncertain sigh as she turns this way and that,
twirling a lock of hair in her pale, slender fingers
and trying to look disinterested in her own reflection.

She reaches into a tiny purse, eventually,
and pulls out a tube of mascara.
Her eyes widen to marbles as she teeters close to the mirror,
applying her armor stroke
by stroke
by stroke.

She knows that I am watching her now (I wobble hazily in the mirror),
so I look away for a moment,
and by the time my eyes dart back to hers, her eyelashes flutter pitch black
Like ink spilling from a fountain pen.

I can tell she’s still looking at her stomach
And she can tell I’m still looking at her,
so she murmurs something like acknowledgement
and brushes past me.
Watching her walk away feels wrong, so I look down at my hands instead,
red and pruny
from the hot water seeping down the drain.
Jeremy Betts Jan 30
{revised version}

So,
You're back to question me
About this litny of negativity
To discover who or what misled me
But I know exactly who done it
Let me clear up the conspiracy theory
Place me in font of a mirror and look closely
Who do you see?
Me?
That's correct, very good, but the rest of the frame isn't empty
Take notice of the oblivious guilty party directly behind me
Particularly the one with the nerve to be judging me
Here,
Let me get out of the picture so the visual can be absorbed entirely

©2024
🚫 the first half conflicts with the last half🚫

I wish it was as easy
As you say it should be
To discover who betrayed me
But I know exactly who done it, place me in font of a mirror and see
Rosie Jan 15
Mirror, mirror on the wall,
reflect the stranger within my soul.
Unveil my strength, my grace,
expose my scars and flaws and all.
I am a tapestry made from frayed threads of a fractured heart
M H John Jan 13
I got home tonight
Walked in front of the mirror
And undressed

Out of my skin

Leaving my corpse
Lying on the floor
I sit next to it

Opening my eyes

To release the water
That have short-circuit
The wires of my mind

I take a deep breathe
And count to three
As I gaze into the mirrors depths

Reflections of my soul emerge
Skinless and vulnerable
I confront myself
Causing my memory to surge

I don’t recognize this person anymore
Dropping the hard drives into the degausser
Old files displaying
An error occurs
“Are you sure you want to erase memory?”

CTRL+ALT+DELETE

I have finally set myself free
Of the AI who controls my mind

Named:
Victim mentality
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