I see a person, staring intently back at me.

His eyes are vacant, but the way they gaze into mine,

Makes me turn aside,

Avert my gaze.

He reflects this movement.

I cringe at the thought that he remains still,

Waiting to look back at me.

I look back at him,

But he is no longer there.

He has left to show me the eyes of others,

Now in his place stands a woman,

Soft, concerned.

I lift my hand,

She reflects this movement.

Our fingers touch each other in unison.

She offers me a patient smile,

I find myself returning it,

Or did I begin it?

She seems to know my surface,

She can guess my every motion, expression,



Like glass.

But does she know what lies behind my smiles, laughs, thoughtful stares?

I offer a laugh,

She receives it happily,

Content that I am happy.

But am I happy?

I offer her my laughs, smiles, lighthearted words,

And all those sorts of lies.

Her gaze becomes thoughtful, questioning.

I avert my gaze.

She reflects this movement.

I look down at the tile,

As it spreads under my feet.

I run my hands underneath the water.

I let it pool in my cupped hands.

I bring it to my face,

Let it wash away the filth,

The blood,

The sweat,

I look up at the woman,

But she is no longer there.

In her place stands the man from before.

His expression asks if the others knew me.

If they knew him.

Such an eerily familiar face,

As if from a person one knew a lifetime ago.

His face is wet,

The water glides down his cheeks,

And drips from his chin.

I use to know him well.

His thoughts were my thoughts,

His words were my words,

His pain was my pain.

I no longer wish to look upon him,

His gaze is like fire,

Turning the water upon my face into steam.

I avert my gaze.

He reflects this movement.

I look up towards the lights.

Their illuminating rays pass over me,

I am laid bare before them.

I curse these lights,

For showing what I have worked so hard to believe,

What do they know of this person I am?

I know fully well of myself,

But I look back to the man.

He is still there,

Intently looking back at me.

He frowns,

He knows of my thoughts,

And knows of my skewed belief.

I hate this man staring back at me,

His saddened, despairing gaze drives ice into my heart,

And fire into my stomach.

I avert my gaze.

He reflects this movement.

I turn off the cursed lights,

Mirrors are only reflections,

But I believe I left something behind in that man’s gaze.
TheCrowing TheCrowing
18-21, M
3 Responses May 9, 2012

I really enjoyed this...By making the reflections seem as if they were different people made for an alluring and interesting read... You, sir, are a fabulous writer!

Glad you enjoyed it. And thank you very much! I really appreciate the kind words. :)

It's fantastic

Thank you so much for reading and commenting! :)

I really enjoyed reading this. It flows very nice and I can feel it. You have talent in speaking your words. I would like you to read a poem of mine if you have a moment. It's called, Eye To Eye With Myself. I think you would find it interesting. Sort-of the same realm you coud say. I'll throw it down in my blog real quick. Give me a minute.

Thank you so very much for taking the time to read and comment! I really appreciate it :)
I read your poem and really enjoyed it. You have great talent in writing!