The mirror

The mirror of my mind reflects
only badness.
The good resides here
in this room
as a vampire, without reflectiveness, and though my mind
searches as if for shells,
it finds only sand.
My mind is like a mud that holds
no lighter impressions…
the good just skims
along
the surface,
without purchase ever
attained.

I get that murky,
sinking feeling,
and the uselessness of the world
gradually petrifies me.
Fallen leaves follow
me home —
it’s a
symptom and a statement
of fact —
and I’m a completely different
person when I arrive.

Beyond the constellation of
my body,
beneath the painstakingly arranged leaves…
the well of my mind holds
no water,
just muck, and glue, clay, and a tiny precious
jewel: philosophy.

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About allisunknown

26 year-old student, tutor, and writer. Write for http://www.spectrumculture.com. Also nascent pedestrian advocate. Twitter handles: twitter.com/joeclinkenbeard twitter.com/PedInPDX
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