Mirror of the Mind

Dizzy and hollow.
Cold
Illuminated.
Sitting.

Chest full of this thudding
Heaving
Pulsating mass of
Love and frustration
And fear I wander

Down the hall.
Circling myself through my eyes,
Around my own mind,
Unaware the tottering is real.

What is that I hear?
Buzzing.
Retracted sounds.
Voices.

Music.

Rough grained wood yields
At the warm press
of my icy finger tips,
Reveling the broken marionette.

Glass eyes listless,
Arms at broken angles
She lies and lies to me

Porcelain lips closed
The music pours from her
like a broken carousel
Telling me it will be just fine.

She is broken
Dying
Music slowing
and something in me is fluttering in fear.

I touch her hand
and it turns to ash
Sifting through my fingers

Grasping for it I want to fix her.

But gazing upon her face
I see she is me
and I don't know how to fix myself.