I look into these dark eyes of mine,
and see a stranger's stare.
Is it wisdom hard-learned?
The blackened heart burned?
What truth placed the coldness now there?
Once upon a far distant time,
I loved truly, without reservation.
But the never-healing wounds,
reminders of my failure,
I've bled rivers for self-preservation.
Into this mirror, still I peer.
Trying to find life in the gaze.
And running from memory,
cowering from truth,
Spirit broken...in so many ways.
I long to shatter the reflected face,
though the act might bring years of bad luck.
A moment's release,
to protest, "That's not me!"
so that someday, I might again give a f*ck.
Alive once was good, though full of bright pain.
But I think that the numbness is best.
To exist without love,
without hopes, without dreams,
and be jaded, like all of the rest.
And so, blackness claim me,
I welcome thy sting.
At long last, I crumble,
naught to say.
Like the walls I once knew,
worn thin, eaten by time,
and the ashes, dust of dreams
drift away....
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