Horrific reality

On a Thursday evening, I had my first meeting

While the pelter relentlessly scratched at my windows

And the trees danced in a possessed state;

She sat, perched on my bed, deep in thought.

 

With her black mane of hair cascading around her face

She appeared eerily beautiful, and happy too!

She hummed a nostalgic tune, almost like my lullaby 

( I wondered how she knew!)

While her hands moved in a n erratic busy manner.

 

A closer look revealed that she was drawing,

that too with a great penance.

Was that a painting or a sketch?

It was both and yet, not the same,

For the canvas was her arm!

 

As she sat, etching the crimson glory;

The pen in her hand took up more crooked form,

The glinting metal and scarlet rivulets down her carved arm

Stared back at me, so did she.

 

She looked maniacal, eyes filled with vicious joy

Her mouth twisted in a mocking glee

While her stare pinned me to her will

Her tune took on a scarier note.

 

She smiled at me with a secret glint

Like she's aware of all of my deep and dark ones

As she went back to deranged carving on

her arm, like a sculpture gone wrong;

An unnerving sting broke the spell.

 

A discomforting pain drew my attention

Only to discover her violent burning carvings on my arm

Horror struck, reality sank

She stared back at me, my own replica!

Through the glinting surface

away in the reflected dimension..

There I sat drenched in blood and carved, 

If she was the artist, then I was the art.

 

 

    

Author's Note

You got the plot? Critique away!
I sat staring at my huge mirror in front of my bed, while it rained all evening and this ran through my mind..

Reviews

[Ashira Macy]

Woah, this is my kind of poem. Nice and dark with that creepy bit of uncertainty. The speaker could have gone crazy and carved her own wrist, or she could be haunted by a poltergeist. In both scenarios there are demons that she must deal with before she ends up killing herself, or getting killed. Really evilly beautiful my friend!

[Sindu]

Thanks a lot! Really glad you enjoyed it. This is my first entry here.
That's what I intended.. either she is possessed or her insanity finally possessed her mind.. which ever way the reader connects it.

[Ashira Macy]

Your first one? Wow! Well I can't wait to see what else you have in store for all of us!

[Sindu]

Haha! Sure sure.. A tons of them lie here already and some secretly sleeping in my diary..

[1Disawsum]

There are demons, with whom the author must get through and tackle with herself. An extremely original poem, talking about a long talked about topic. Either insanity possessed her mind, or she herself is possessed by demons. Excellent way of writing, loved it. xxx

[R Smith]

A highly emotional writing, self mutilation is a tough subject but your view of it through her eyes seeing someone else doing it only to realize it was herself in the mirror is a totally captivating way to present this problem, it has a kinda fairy tale feeling along side the horror of the reality and of course it has the horror alongside both reality and the dream like quality of it, extremely well written and thought provoking poem Sindu bravo :)

[Sindu]

Wow! Thanks. I don't know what to say. I was in a trance when I wrote it and I wanted to let others feel like it too. It's twisted but has eerie beauty when unfolding in different way. Thanks a lot! It's really great you enjoyed it.

[R Smith]

You are always welcome Sindu :)

[MomzillaNC]

Whoa! Dark and tormented… Y'know, when I was teenager, I knew a cutter. He always said he'd watch himself in the mirror, "cutting the pain away;" and, that it when he was watching the blade cut across his arm in the mirror, that it was like it was happening to someone else, that he was being made to watch.

It was incredibly tragic. He was institutionalized many times. IDK what happened to him after we moved away.

[Sindu]

Oh wow! That's sad. I don't know any cutter in reality but what he went through is really sad. It's a déjà vu cos that's exactly what I felt like when I wrote this. It's one thing to write but to actually crave for blood and pain is something else. Don't know if they should be termed bad or not.
Thanks.

[MomzillaNC]

Bad… it's definitely bad. He was a very tortured soul… always on the edge of ending it all.

[Sindu]

That's depressing, yes.

[Mayank]

damn beautiful, I love writing on mirror reflection and rains, I tell you they depress the hell outta me. So everything just floods on the paper...

[Sindu]

Thanks a lot Mayank! I agree, they ( rain and reflections) can range from beauty to beautiful twisted alterity. I know what you experience.. :P

[Sindu]

That picture for poem is mine. I don't cut, ofcourse not. But I scribble on my arm.