Mirror Image, Part 4,

10

Noon.

The middle of the day.

The perfect time to think back on what has already happened.

And look forward at what is still yet to come.

Most people will look at what’s happened as the past, and what is yet to come with bated breath.

I look back with longing.

I look forward with dread.

So I find myself lying in bed hour after hour after hour.

Lost in thought.

Lost in you.

I’m sleepy though.

Sex and lack of sleep can do that to a person.

I should get up.

My mind begs me to go back to the restless sleep I have been struggling through the last few hours.

I open my eyes instead.

Light.

Fucking.

Hurts.

I struggle out of bed.

The complete lack of clothing has the cold hit me like a wall.

I could feel the blood in my veins turn to ice.

My immediate interest locked on to locating and slipping into clothes.

Clothes are also needed to look civilized in this primitive world.

I rub my pale green eyes.

I slip into something warm.

Why is everything getting boring.

Why can’t it stay interesting?

Am I losing that interest?

11

School.

I should have gone to school.

I should have learned to assimilate into this decrepit society.

The norm frowns upon indifference.

We all must be sheep.

Unfortunately I’m defective.

Broken. In a way.

I can’t conform to the ways of the world.

I’ve only ever known how to go against it.

Growing up under the stern thumb. Authority does that to a person.

And while everyone else grows up with the apparent freedoms gifted to those who conform.

Darkness and quarantine are the only rewards to those who dare to be different.

It’s how we’ve gotten so stuck in such a rut.

Creativity is frowned upon.

Unless it can produce a revenue.

I am broken.

I can’t produce anything.

The only thing I can create is bad poetry and sketches.

And neither can create a revenue worth inheriting.

Useless.

The label placed upon me by the many who’ve met me.

Known me.

Learned to despise me.

If one has no worth in this world.

Do they even deserve to exist?

To live amongst those who can hold said worth?

I don’t think so.

But then again.

What do I know?

12

The light.

It burns.

God.

How many times before have I mentioned this?

I’m like a broken record.

Broken.

Is there an echo in here?

I’m looking at a plain white ceiling.

The blankness playing a sense of calm upon my mind.

It felt good.

No memories to drift by like the darkness of closed eyelids.

I look to the left.

Pillows greeted me with their feathery softness tickling my nose.

I sneeze.

Cute moment gone.

I crinkle my nose and turn to the right.

Even more pillows greet me.

Why dost thou need to be drowned in pillows again?

Oh yes.

Because I fear sleeping alone.

But I mostly just fear being alone.

Then again.

Who isn’t?

We all want that someone who cares.

And desire the connection of a sexual nature.

To feel complete with our true other.

We may not notice it at first.

But in the end.

No one wants to die alone.

Especially me.

Mirror Image, Part 3,

7

I open my eyes.

Light poured in.

I shut them tight.

They still hurt.

I felt his arm around my waist.

His head pressed into my neck.

Our naked bodies fitted together like that of the most sexual puzzle.

A razor’s edge.

My mother could walk in at any second.

My father as well.

I start.

But stop.

Let them find me.

My mind says.

Mom still thinks I’m a virgin.

Confrontation would be the only outcome should I let him stay.

I roll over in his arms.

His eyes open.

“Morning?”

I nod.

He sighs.

“Have to leave?”

I nod.

He kisses me.

I kiss him back.

He climbs out of bed.

His body warmth is gone.

I’m freezing.

He quickly dresses.

I watch him as he does so.

Stay in bed. My mind says.

I take a breath and jump out of bed.

I quickly run up to him and give him one last long kiss before he left.

He smiles.

He’s gone.

I jump back into bed.

Curling up into a ball, hiding under a mountain of blankets.

I can still smell him.

I shut my eyes.

But I don’t see his face.

I see hers.

And I want to look in a mirror again. 

8

I wish for wings.

I wish to fly away.

Everything’s a tidal wave.

Threatening to come crashing down atop me and drown me in its massive flood.

We don’t use the title boyfriend and girlfriend.

We don’t use the term ‘dating’.

We just have feelings.

Strong feelings.

We want to be together.

We want to hold each other.

We want to fuck.

In a way we are ‘taken’.

But on the other hand, we aren’t.

It’s been this way forever.

Probably will stay that way forevermore.

But after what has happened.

To me.

To everything.

I want him.

I need him.

I love him.

9

Dreams and nightmares tend to blend within my mind.

Eating away at my sanity.

Leaving me lost and insane within a maelstrom of my own machinations.

Is it day?

Is it Night?

Or is it something else?

Memories clash with fantasies.

Emotions bubbling dangerously beneath the surface of my pale skin.

I was lost.

I was found.

I was everything in between.

Was what happened fate?

Did I deserve to suffer?

I think yes.

They say no.

The contrasting arguments collide with me at every turn.

Everything I think or thought of.

Not true.

They all say it’s a lie.

That it’s not true and I must stop thinking this way.

But I believe it true.

By god do I believe it.

It’s all within the eye of the beholder.

Isn’t it?

But yet again.

Even that question is met with a plethora of contrasting yes and no.

Is there such thing as a true correct answer?

I say no.

They say yes.

Ironic.

Mirror Image, Part 2,

4

Spiraling memories.

Broken hymns.

A single note being played in the air.

One note used but still creating a mesmerizing tune.

I open my eyes.

No light.

Pitch darkness greeted me.

My eyes didn’t hurt.

I watch as the last few days drifted by in the shapes of shattered memories and film.

Step 1: Realization.

I wanted to block out the memories forever.

I wanted to be free from the torment.

But it was something I knew I couldn’t run away from like I had so many countless things before.

Step 2: Comprehension.

I knew I was dreaming.

And it felt good.

I need the sleep.

I watch as the memories reach their crescendo.

Pain and torment and horrific understanding ripping away at my heart and soul.

Why did this have to happen to me?

Why was I chosen?

What did I do wrong?

I can’t answer these questions.

Yet they still bounce annoyingly inside my skull.

Refusing to be forgotten.

I bow my head.

I let the hopelessness consume me.

Step 3: Acceptance.

5

A light knocking awoke me from my sleep.

I open my eyes.

Darkness greeted me in my waking dreams as well.

I must have slept longer than I had thought.

I lay curled up in bed.

Still in the clothes from this morning.

I roll over and look at the clock.

The bright red shapes of 11:42 p.m. burned itself into my eyes.

My parents had long since fallen asleep.

I was alone.

The knocking that had awoken me repeats once more.

Coming from my window.

My mind says ignore it. Go back to bed.

I take a deep breath and get up.

Luckily since I’ve slept upon the covers, my body was used to the temperature.

Thank god.

I walk slowly towards the window.

Who could it be?

My mind wonders.

I peek my head in front of the window, looking passed all the scrawls of petty poetry written upon its surface with a permanent marker.

I see shaggy black hair. A broken smile. Dark brown eyes looking back at mine.

I remain silent and open the window.

He struggles through the slightly small window and looks quietly at me.

He was beautiful. Specific male traits. Though quite the feminine frame.

We stare silently at each other for a very long moment.

“Are you alright?”

Again the word ‘alright’.

I bow my head.

He pulls me close in his embrace.

“I’m sorry.”

A new term I’m going to hear a lot more of before it’s all over.

I look up at him with my pale green eyes.

They were so wide within the subtle darkness.

The moon provided only a shadow of light.

He leaned in and kissed my forehead.

I wished for more.

I needed more.

I lean up on my tiptoes, and kiss his gentle lips.

6

I took his hand and led him towards my bed.

A bit of sensuality added to the sway in my hips.

Lucky.

I was already in my underwear.

We only had to concentrate on taking his clothes off.

Reaching the bed, I turn around and drape my arms around his neck.

Smirking.

Teasing.

He leans in and kisses me once more.

Our tongues weaving around the other’s as our lips meet over and over.

He tasted ever so sweet.

I feel his shirt tickle my nose as it passes over his head.

I expected another kiss.

But none came.

I open my eyes.

And looked into his.

His arms wrapped around my slender waist.

“You sure?”

I nod.

He lays me down upon my bed.

His jeans landing in a heap next to his shoes.

In darkness.

I feel my panties get gently removed and tossed aside.

I see only shadows.

My legs are slowly opened.

I feel a tongue explore me.

A moan escapes my lips.

I feel the tongue slide up my tummy.

My tank top’s tossed aside.

Gentle licks upon my small breasts, punctuated by hard bites to my nipples.

I whispered his name.

He finished his exploration of my body, and prepared to explore something deeper.

I felt his warm breath upon my neck.

I felt the hot touch of his long, hard, cock.

My eyes opened and met with his.

I moaned in anticipation.

He took his cue.

I felt it slide in.

I closed my eyes tight.

He started pushing it in and out.

I moaned and gasped each time I felt him go ever deeper inside me.

His voice whispered in my ear as he went faster and faster.

Sweet little nothings echoing in my mind.

It felt so good it hurt.

I bite his neck.

He groans.

I cry his name.

He smiles.

I climax.

He came.

It may have been a bad decision.

I could have met the same ends with another means.

But I felt loved.

Needed.

And that’s all I wanted to feel again.

Mirror Image, Part 1,

1

I take a breath.

One deep breath.

And then I hold it for a brief second before letting the air slip back out from between my lips.

I open my eyes.

Light.

It hurts.

So my eyes are squeezed tightly shut once more.

My head whispers for me to go back to bed.

But I couldn’t.

Not until I looked into a mirror.

I needed to see my face.

I open my eyes once more.

The burning rays of sunlight razing the surface of my pale green retinas.

Ow.

My mind says to shut my eyes, to dive back under the covers, to sleep once more.

Fuck I am lazy.

I throw my mind aside.

Much like I always do.

And I slip out from underneath the warm embrace of my covers.

Only a black tank and pink short shorts adorned my fragile, slender frame.

Immediately the cold air attacks my bare arms and legs with pinpricks of freezing pain.

Quickly they go numb.

My determination refuses to be deterred.

I skip across the many articles of clothing and books and cd cases that litter the floor until I reach the large mirror hanging from the back of my bedroom door.

I wipe a few locks of my long, faded raven black hair out of my face and take a long look into the mirror upon my door.

I run a few slender fingers down my cheek.

A single tear chasing the fingertips.

“Who are you?” I say to my reflection.

She only shrugs and stays silent. 

2

The sound of shattering glass echoes throughout the house.

The many thousands of shards lay upon the ground like the most mosaic of puzzle pieces.

The bright sunlight reflected upon the many shards.

Blinding my eyes.

It hurt.

My hand was contorted into a tight fist.

And it was bleeding.

The knuckles profusely dripping a beautiful scarlet.

My breathing was ragged.

My face stained with tears.

I slump down to my knees.

I remain silent.

Silent.

Like my reflection.

My door flies open, revealing the distraught form of my mother.

Worry was painted across her thinly lined face.

She sidesteps the glass and falls to her knees.

Wrapping her arms around me, pulling me close and enveloping me in the safety of her embrace.

I break down.

My sobs are muffled into her shoulder.

Her gentle croons whispering into my ear, her tears mixing with mine.

A broken montage of a mother and her child.

“It’s going to be alright.”

Her words echoed dead in my ears.

Because it will never be alright.

Nothing will be alright ever again.

Never when one’s been broken such as I have.

3

I lay upon my freshly made bed.

Light still flooded in.

My eyes still hurt.

I was looking at my bandaged hand with an offhand curiosity.

My dad had cleaned up the glass.

My mom had calmed me down with tea.

The soft tunes of Three Days Grace echoed lightly throughout my room, emanating from the cd player next to my bed.

My cheeks had the faint trails of dried tears upon them.

I hugged myself and rolled to my side.

My hair draping over my face.

Blocking the light from touching my eyes.

They didn’t hurt anymore.

What day was it?

What month?

What year?

I can’t remember.

I didn’t want to remember anyway.

I close my eyes.

Deep breath in.

Ragged breath out.

I repeat the process over and over until I drift off into a light slumber.

Hoping that the few minutes of sleep will help me clear my head.

“Help me.”

Those words leave my mouth.

A single tear accompanies it.

Until I finally drift away into dreams.

Hopefully to finally understand the situation I was in.

But instead I’m greeted by a dreamless sleep.

And the minutes turned to hours.

Red Rainbow.

Red rainbow, red rainbow
A vein's only spout.
A river of crimson.
A distorted shout.
Ejected from flesh with a flurry of poise.
Each pulse casts a wave to ignite tender noise.
Red Rainbow, red rainbow
How deeply you soothe.
With each shattered romance.
Your meaning is proved.
A slip of the wrist to the jab of an arm.
To bring us the pain of one's own self harm.
Red rainbow, red rainbow
My only regret.
Ensuring my lover's.

Eternal lament.

Shallows,

A single tear to stain a cheek.

That final day to end a week.

The final verse to end a song.

That dash of right within the wrong.

A caressed cheek, a gentle hug.

To be held close and oh so snug.

Within the grace of time long past.

Keep holding on to make it last.

A stagnant hole inside a heart.

A tender pain to twinge and start.

The only way to cage the free.

To break the things held close to me.

A blacked out face, a dying muse.

A shattered dream, a long lit fuse.

See dead sun through silver cloud.

Raindrops cast a crystal shroud.

Blocking out all that I am.

I tried not to give a damn.

But I can't stop seeing through.

Through the lies that lead to you.

And it's killing me each day.

Until the day I fade away.

Who, What, When, Where, Why?

Where does one go to find their way?
When all their hope has gone astray?
Where can one run with tear stained cheeks?
With pent up pain that's built for weeks?
I've stood here and wondered this.
Shooting arrows just to miss.
My room a cage I just can't take.
This smile on my face is fake.
Painted on with subtle care.
Just so folks won't stop and stare.
I feel so lost and sick and dead.
Over the things I went and said.
I've realized things I should have known.
I've seen the pain that I had sown.
And now I'm wandering this place.
A love that's gone without a trace.
Where do I go when life goes south?
When only hurt pours from my mouth?
What do I do to make things right?
I'm so far left I just can't fight.
To feel you in my arms again.
To say the words I write in pen.
To heal my heart beat black and blue.
A chance to mean it. I love you.