Like the fridged winter air seeping into my skin,
I watch as the ink bleeds through the paper from my pen.
I turn words into visions and visions into words.
Poetry sets me free like the air flowing beneath the wings of the birds.
As I look up at the sky,
I pray that my guardian angel would wipe the tears that I cry.
I stood in front of the mirror.
Thinking if I closed my eyes my thoughts would be clearer.
I rubbed my eyes, but when I opened them all I saw was my face all askew,
as if the emptiness inside of my soul morphed my reflection into the fiery darkness that I always knew.
I felt the fire burning me to the core I set it free unconcerned with the cost.
Little did I know the flames were turned to ashes in the winter frost.
Buried deep within my dangling threads,
I'm drowning in the tears that I've shed.
Maybe what I'm missing is human connection.
It is me.
Entangled in the webs of my mind's reflection...