Hidden

January 14, 2011
By , brooklyn, NY
I see these strangers.
I watch them, i see them speak to me.
Their voices speak like shadows,
Transparent and silent.
I can make out what they say,
Although their faces stay a blur.
Each appears more emotionless than the next.
I imagine the monotuneity scream through the deafness,
Piercing the soft but solid air around me.

I breathe.
Breathe in, breathe out.
I blink.
These strangers are less of a blur.
Somethings i can make out;
Their faces reveal life.
A smile of happiness, a smile covering pain.
Tears of loss, tears of joy.
Eyes that glisten, and eyes sunken low into the skull.
It all surrounds me.

Take another breathe, mouths a stranger.
Do you think this is real? speaks a another.
Deep in, softly out.
Open my eyes.
Its only me that i see.
Standing in an empty room of reflections.
Who said you can recognize the person you've become?
Relate to who you were?
Realize who your becoming?

Step back to see clearer,
Are these strangers really me?
My step sinks softly in the ground,
And it all disappears.
In this darkness I can see myself in his eyes.
My reflection times a thousand.
Is it possible for one person to make you feel so real?





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