Objects in the mirror are closer than they appear


reflecting (I believed)

on the past

you held hostage

by incessant fears

me, shackled

by gnawing guilt

and that serrated label


I saw away

at wizened meanings

pick-ax prospecting

insight nuggets

repeated glances

long, contemplative stares

mooning over

the loss of you


impaled on

refracted fragments

sharded mistakes

there is a blinding flash

of brights


I see myself

held hostage

by the past

half-living, shackled

in your well-worn shoes


a dual dueling self

holds releasing keys



17 thoughts on “Reflections

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