How vain are you to look through a window
and see your own reflection
rather than what lays outside the pane of glass?
Be cruel!
Be harsh!
I surely have suffered worse.
You are a plague
that darkens the hours,
when I try to fall asleep
-wake up in a sweat-
and the nightmares in days filled with resouding light.
How do you see!
Wearing eyeglasses!
Would you not go blind, neigh even cross-eyed?
From staring too long into circled glass,
looking for a glimpse of beauty,
in your own eyes?
Rinse me clean
of your vulgar thoughts.
Find me safe
in a web of design
made by purest intricacies.
I cannot live
side by side
to someone who does not understand
the darkness of their own soul!
The vanity that turns them to fools in a rich man's land!
Or be me not a tortured soul
to listen to vagrant pleas,
to be ever wary of unturned displeasantries,
to wish them dead!
Maybe If I, too, look -yearn- into a mirror for long enough hours,
I will see not what lays on the inside,
and simply a soul
with the same hair-style philosophies
and tired red lips
as all of the others
that put on such elaborate masks.
I will cry until the glitter is gone from mine eyes,
and I am dead, as well, on the inside.