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The Mirror Which Flatters Not *
It is true I am fraud
my moth lips flutter
over dark night lies
my eyes rapt in the headlights
All the secrets I try to hide
in a sunless box
kept upon the mantel
to catch in the moonlight
Falling inside of myself
where the fireflies live
within my heart
offering only fleeting
illumination
How I try to shed the mask
showing more often tragedy
while I grimace inside
my tears are opals
A cloudy haze hardened
in stone, just as the
core of my soul
cleaved in two as I try
to uncover a fragment
of sincerity.
*Title credit to my friend who came up with the name
9:52 PM - 6/18/2009 -
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