Senselessness

May 6, 2003

I find myself in a shallow pool of gray
and viscous matter that sticks
to every crevice of my body.
In it, I see reflections of someone
I have always thought of as me.
Though from long ago, the images are clear.
The collection of all these mirrors
looks like confusion made flesh.
I would not look, but it is everywhere.
The specks could form one solid picture,
but they refuse to become cohesive.
I would move, but I'm afraid to be cut.
The shards of glass seem sharp
but I do notice no blood has run
into this pool even as it rubs my skin.
The hints of memory in the thousand
little glints of light are the only pain
and soon I jump out of the mass.
I believe I am free, I believe I have learned
all that I could learn from such a
vapid and absurd excersize of my mind.
Later, though, I find myself back in,
struggling with the weight of the mirrors.
The fight to get out is a little harder.
I begin to wonder when I will stop
the mindless leap back into that pool.
I begin to think I am eager for the pain.