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Glass series f Self Portrait
I feel so lonely looking at the stars through my window
They burn so distant, so far apart
Yet they sparkle in the eyes of my reflection
They burn so cold, no warmth apart
"I'm more real than you" I say to myself in the window
I feel the glass, my cold reflection, despite the warmth of my fire
It warms the house, but never me
My eyes water, but never cry, although
I've wanted to for days
They burn my eyes, no warmth for me
But condensation from the fireplace draws tears on my reflection
"I'm more real than you"
I close the blinds on my true self,
Someone's knocking at my door
So nicely does this sum everything...writin as if remorse no longer had any meaning...what i long for
This is good stuff! (did you post on the lit format?)