Friday, September 30, 2005

Dear Me

It's been five years since the last time you looked at me. It was inside your dormitory room. Only the desk light lit, enough to illuminate a poster of a nude female body that hang in front of me. You were crying then for reasons I do not know. I think your shadow had done you ill that time. He chased you around apologetically.

He only stopped when you turned my way. Your eyes were bloodshot and swollen; tears took turn in their escape. A total mess that scared the hell out of me. I wanted to hide but I must face you for who else will? You sensed my discomfort and you tried to pull yourself together. Then you looked at me straight in the eye. Accusations pierced me. You knew very well that it wasn't my fault. You were holding the culprits in the palm of your hands, crumpled and tear-soaked. I wanted to see them but you refused to share your misery.


I laid wasted and broken on the floor. Then faces started to fall down on me. First was a man, who had the same proud lips as yours. Then a woman who I think was in her late fifties. I presume she gave you such temper. You had the same accusing stares. And a 10-yr old girl who wore the same sorry smile as the one I have for you. A tear-soaked family portrait torn into bits against a backdrop of the tiny pieces of your own reflection...

You had wept; then you ran away... from yourself. Your shadow followed through. Then us.

-- the cute guy in the mirror

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