Another installment in my semi-occasional Bad Poet’s Society series.
My mirror died today.
Or maybe yesterday: I can’t be sure.
Once I was there;
now I am gone.
The memory of my always hungry
always keen eyes
Is already fading.
Something is missing, but I
can’t see what. My self?
Where was I before? Once I lived among the
living.
Now I walk among the living, dead.
I have fallen up: not into an abyss, but
onto a clouded mountaintop
Where I see no forms or shapes.
Darkness, that is my element.
Yet darkness has no mirrors,
and I miss myself already.