Through the Looking Glass

My eyes flutter curiously
as I study you from behind the smoky lens
of a looking glass.
I observe your other world
and I discover a murky brilliance
where you mingle with a million
  --other people.

Each of them peck at you like vultures�
like ravens.
Hungry birds of prey tear you apart
and take with them a piece of you.
Your remains�
broken bones and entrails�
are all that is left
  (ruins of your great city).

The blood that has splattered
on the white-washed walls
paint a pretty picture of your
  cracked fa�ade.

I cannot exhibit salvation:
These lessons must be learned
the hard way.
We will ALL leave you
to rot
  and bake
in the scorching brightness
of your sun.

I refuse to enter your chaotic ecosystem
of mind-boggling codependence.
I�m afraid of the light there,
and would rather prefer
  to avoid the ambiguousness
that comes with it.
I like it dark,
in the solitude
  of my own disposition�
viewed by all,
yet shared by none.

Go ahead and lie there
while crimson leaks
  onto sparkley-clean ceramic tiles.
Let them take you
while I watch from the safety
of MY OWN mind�

�for in my silent satisfaction
I am
absolutely sure of one thing:
No one has me.
I am my own.

--Emerald Eyes
11.09.01.
Friday, 6:36 PM
Hosted by www.Geocities.ws

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