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Eyes are supposed to be
the windows to the soul...

I think they’re really
Just funhouse mirrors

Taking something
And twisting it
Into something that is not
Sparrow Mar 30
Mirrors reflect the truth
sans embellishment
Built with fragile glass
So easily shunned,
so easily shattered

A lone mirror
hung up on a wall
to serve the pleasures of the vain
But when two
face each other
and manage to hit the right angle
Limitless images are formed
Miracle and magic! alone no more
You need two people for a party.  Finding that second person is the challenge.

Inception for this was largely inspired by this:
https://hellopoetry.com/poem/3060509/rainy-day-activties/
parie Mar 10
condensation. steam on the mirrors.
your name etched in cursive. i miss you.
but,
you were never in my life in the first place.
BLEGH idk
Ren Mar 1
I had those random thoughts again.
Such as; how people pick you last for the first game of the semester played in a gym class, even though they don't know how good or bad you are.

It's off of appearance alone, which is *******.
"Oh they look thin, they're probably not good at (sport)."
What the **** does that have to do with anything?

When we played soccer, I showed up everyone else,
even though I was picked last.
They had the nerve to say to me, "Wow, good job!"
As if the notion that I was good at a sport was some sort of miracle.

Whatever.
Not like I played soccer for eleven ******* years.
Not like they knew that since sixth grade.

The way they say, "Wow, good job!", makes me sick.
They say it to me as if I'm unable to be good, just because they perceive me to be horrible at sports.
They sound so surprised.

Another thing's been stuck in my head ever since I've read Paper Towns.
John Green mentions people seeing mirrors of others as who they believe the person to be.
I find this true.
People love to think that they know someone very well, when they only know the version that they've created.
Green says we need to see through the window to see who the person actually is.

Which seems ******* impossible.
But it's not.
Just talk to them instead of assuming.

They've already built a mirror of who I am.
Of course, it's completely wrong.

I'm not some boring skinny twig that can't talk right.
I'm not smart, and I'm not rude.
I have emotions, and I really care about others, much more than myself, even.

That's not who I am to anyone else, though.
I have these journal entries on my phone that I'm posting here.
I’m still unable,
So unwilling,
So undeserving,  
And yet so crucial

Why must I look into my own eyes
Seeking an end I never want realized,
And find one with such ease?
Chicken Feb 18
We variations
Striations of the light

We still
seek each other

With
all of our might
all of our might

Til we collide

You and I
No
visible collision

No thing to measure

'Cause we're
Endless
Infinite

No
separation
No
division.
You do the math :D

https://www.youtube.com/watch?time_continue=196&v=hqzkGEvOOTc
La Girasol Feb 14
I hold an impossible mirror above my head, just out of reach.

The audience can't see it, only me.
They clap and laugh and grin while I do my routine.

Meanwhile something hangs overhead.

So I'll do the dance, I'll put on the show, I'll do what they want.

But I scream within,
for mirror shards are no fickle sin.

"More! More!" they chant.

So I hold up the mirror instead.

But they know no difference.
For the mirror,
is what they've always been fed.
M-E Jan 27
Screamings is all the order
I can hear
Enclosed in my brain
And launched out, through my mouth

r  a  m  b  l  i  n  g  s  .

Facing the mirrors
When I SHOUT and CUSS
And crisscross thoughts
I weaken and frail
Get off the rails
Expressing what I want to say
In front of you
Because I am a speaker
Without a lisp
Without a stutter
Just Screams and Mutters
Without any speaking difficulties
Because I am..Simply
A HUMAN.
Don't ask me how I was inspired to write this poem. Lol
27/01/2019
SMS Jan 15
That moment when you’re sat
And around you there’s shattered glass
You have glue tape and everything
You’ll ever need to get patched up
But your hands are trembling too hard
Your eyes are so blurry from tears
You can’t even lift a shard to see
What you actually look like.
Yeah that moment of helplessness doesn’t
By any chance ever leave your mind.
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