Maybe the world is just a mirror,
a one that has a chip,
that if you touch it gently,
the skin, that's so precious, will rip.
Red dots will cover the reflection,
the look alike of yourself,
the eyes of mankind,
the person of...myself?
Is that really me, standing right there?
Only one movement
will make me declare
how one little chip
can break up a person-
an -ality of oneself.
How that thin striking line,
can rip through the body,
can crack through the soul,
can reach for its goal.
If you look too long,
it will split you in two,
oneself making silence,
the other using what's true.
Don't look into the world,
it'll make you feel sick,
just seeing it from up there
will make your brain click.
That mirror you saw,
it will be left astray,
cover it in a cloth
and hide it away.
In the attic of your mind,
revision from humankind,
don't show yourself in the reflection,
don't make yourself
a rejection.
