I open my eyes to stare at a mirror.
Something about the mirrored face unnerves
and fills me with a sense of dread.
It is not that of a liar or that of a schemer
Neither is it of someone who wreaks havoc and wrecks.
Instead there lies the reflection of mock innocence
and the promise of loyalty.
It sickens me to the core.
I tear my eyes away to offer myself some respite
from the anxiety and turmoil.
My eyes close
And there! There it is!
The liar, the manipulator,
the violator of virtue.
And the dismay soon turns to
an odd feeling of familiarity
akin to the ambience
of a haven.
YOU ARE READING
A Corner of Unsaid Things
PoesieFor all the things that your heart wants to scream out in agony, but is choked down by guilt or some other captor. Simply put, welcome to your corner of unsaid things.
