The dark space of the room:
Echoing dark corners,
Black reflections; unfamiliar,
Smooth hard surfaces,
Where no things could bloom.
Empty of all light, only me:
The image of my face,
A dark and twisted specter,
Is this who I really am?
Hunting cross steeled fascia; to be free.
Finding only clenched fists:
Nails scraping palms,
Swing; smash, shatter.
Break this obsidian window.
I do; now cut, bleeding from the detritus.
Looking out casement so unkind,
There I see myself in the world;
Smiling, laughing, living...
Slumping back in cognizance,
This unlit and empty mirror palace;
Broken shards of my own mind.
AN: Entry I wrote for Hailstorm_2004's Poetry Contest.
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Blank Spaces
PoetryAn emotive journey through the empty places we visit but never want to see. The pain, the heartbreak, trying to see hope in places there may be none. And the secrets, and yes there are always secrets. Can you see them in this dark empty space? So it...
