Coming To Terms

As I stare into the window panes of your soul,

all that’s displayed is my shattered reflection with a contorted grimace.

Lost and alone as the cold raises goosebumps on flesh,

I extend an arm of sympathy quickly discarded

Reminiscent of the rejection from long ago.

 

It didn’t have to end so spectacularly,

but the panes continued to frost over until nothing but silhouettes were visible from the outside looking in.

Little did I know of the hairline cracks that crept through the foundation

Seemingly harmless until it all came crashing down in such a grandiose display of failed falsehoods hidden beneath the surface.

Forgive my glances of disgust as your monstrous proclivities come to light.

 

I found my way and  have made my peace;

All that remains is the gradual resignation that picks away at a memory house haunted by the remnants of the disheartened dead.

 

Author’s Words for Thought

 

“I mean, they say you die twice. One time when you stop breathing and a second time, a bit later on, when somebody says your name for the last time.” -Banksy

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