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My Inside-Outside
Looking through the glass
only to have it look right
back at me and reflect
within my mind, all that
is inside of me.
My blood beamed
in passing headlights,
my soul flitted across
the street lamp.
And what the mirror would
throw back, not a self-same
reflection, but instead, skeleton
eyes upon a skeleton head,
all covered in flesh.
So tender and pink, muscles
replicated within smooth polished
chrome, shinning against the
moonlight in a winking eye, as it
passes by.
Carrying away with it a piece of
myself, as all those things with
sleek sheen surfaces seek to
remind me of what I consist of.
I wish I could laugh, if it were
not such a sad revelation, to
discover what should not be
uncovered.
I never said I wanted to see the
truth, only a cheap symmetrical
imitation, which is half-right.
Not this cock and bull of the
x-ray I see in everything that would
tell me something without a word
to be spoken.
Vessels, and gray matter, all swim
about, churning my stomach as I
watch my heart work with no mind
of its own.
All so mechanical, I am confronted
with this, where is the mystery I once
had known? I ruined the vision when
I first decided to see inside myself.
2:57 PM - 2/15/2006 -
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