MOM Day 4-Reflections Poem

This actually occurred to me last night and the night before. I had never experienced the occurrence described in my poem, and it was pretty scary, especially the first time, which happened when I was texting in the middle of the night. On my phone, while a message is being sent, the screen turns black with the “sending” figure on it, and I could see my own eyes in the reflection of the phone. I tried not to look anymore but couldn’t catch myself a few times today, and even looking into a regular mirror showed the same gaze. It was truly chilling.

Reflections

I never completely recognized

The fear of looking into one’s own eyes

But when a mind is overshadowed by night

Reflections can render an awful fright

To see someone you do not know

Eyes  blank but full of night and woe

 Chilled, you sharply avert your gaze

Yearning for eyes once more ablaze

Petrified to behold once more

The darkness your own soul bore

Wondering whether it was really you,

Or someone-or something-completely new

One cannot help but debate

How one falls through into this state

How sunshine sustained in your crest

Was from its  home mercilessly wrest

How fear and suspicion in disguise

Have taken their hold inside your eyes

You think, “It’s unnatural, it’s utterly insane..

..circumstances must undoubtedly change”.

On another note, I was listening to Rent songs yesterday. During the “goodbye love” song, for the entire scene, I feel like pretty much all the characters. From relationship issues (on every single side, from Mimi to Roger to Maureen to Joanne), to Mark’s internal struggles to Roger’s instinct to run away from his problems, all of it is relevant to me.

Think I’m being all depressing despite what Month of Motivation (yes, I shortened it-it’s too much work to write it out in the title)? I’m doing okay. Not fantastic of course, but I’m talking to friends for support and ranting to all of you, which alleviates some stress and allows me to put all my thoughts together. See, writing is therapeutic.

“‘Mark has got his work, they say Mark lives for his work

and Mark’s in love with his work…Mark hides in his work. ‘

‘From what?’

‘From facing your failure, facing your loneliness

Facing the fact you live a lie.

Yes you live a lie; tell you why 

You’re always preaching not to be numb when that’s how you thrive.

You pretend to create and observe when you really detach from feeling alive.’

‘Maybe that’s because I’m the one of us to survive.’

‘Poor baby.'” 

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