Mirror... Am I

Mirror… is it? Or just shards of another memory as we strain through the thoughts of what used to be. Seeing your smile as I was getting out of bed, I felt a sudden urge inside me, a sudden rush, which made me pull the trigger on you, on that beautifully cold morning.

 

The stars have fallen, the sun has dimmed. Mountains shriek out despair and the rivers echo their dull souls. Trees unleash their inner demons with a hauntingly slow fury upon the steel glazed streets resonating with the melody of cries let out by flowers.

 

And again I find myself sitting here, amidst the fire which burns my thought, the sight of the dragon with its trembling wings, I find myself thinking, is it the wings and the fire or the breath which seems like hell which defines the dragon or is it just another one of my drunken stupors where the dragon is me and so is the demon.

 

Am I the fire then? Or Am I the air, burnt, or Am I just another memory, much like the myth?

 

Am I God? Am I a poet or Am I yet again the one who dwells within your thought…

 

Like the snow which vanishes from your hand, the leaping flames from your fireplace…What Am I?

 

Without a beginning or an end, without an identity or a will.

 

Am I another whisper? Another sound touching your ear. Or Am I the winter dew touching your cheek? Am I the chill which sweeps you in winter or Am I the one who burns right into your soul? Am I me or Am I you, this question I ask the one, the one withholding all the answers in her basket clutched across her side as you say, her breeze which straightens all, that my mind is tied in.

 

 

 

 

 

What is real? What isn’t?

Is it what you see or that sense you feel

Am I the one lurking beneath your skin every time your mind goes blank?

Am I nothing or Am I it all.

Am I the world? Oh too little the world be, I am the infinite which is nothing but everything to you.