My Reflection.

My reflection
Is an arbitrary perception.

It is there,
Yet it is not.

I see it,
It sees me not.

I reach out to touch it,
But coldness meets my tips.

My neck is craned,
It does the same.

I roll my eyes
And it plays along.

I speak to it,
But it mocks me with its moving lips.

Enough! I cry,
And pound my fist.

Fury is returned,
As it walls a mist.

My reflection gazes at me,
And thus do I.

Exhausted, we part
Till morning is nigh.

~ Mich
2013, May 24
5.35 am