I Met the Mirror

I meet the mirror at the break of day
Tears stain every inch of my face
Each dried stream my eyes trace
"Long night?" It inquires
"Long life." I reply
The pitied look, exhaustion-laced
Anger takes the sorrow's place
I hit the glass until it breaks
The image stays
It never fades
My fingers trace the broken lines
A smile pulling at the sight
Laughter leaves my lips despite
"You love me dont you?"
"That I might."
"Why hate me then?" It questions
"We can still be friends, I reckon."
To the loneliness it beckons
"Maybe," I concede
"Promise me!" It seethes
I tell a thousand pretty lies
Look my reflection in the eyes
It looks back at me and smiles
"You're Insane..." I realize.
"I know," It replies.

Reviews

[jacob erin-cilberto]

i love the personification here...much like Sylvia Plath's poem "Mirror"
but some really good dialogue...the Long night/ long life lines so good.
the love/hate relationship with the mirror that most of us go through.
j.

[Lyanth]

Thank you for reading, yes it's a struggle of conflicted emotions most times.

[Paul Bell]

Aren't mirrors so bloody dangerous, always changing face to suit the day.
Never get the truth out the mirror, they hide things from you.
Yip, it's definitely insanity, but I like it.

[Lyanth]

Mirrors reflect so much more than a face sometimes, it's almost scary. Thank you for reading.

[Carol Cashes]

Oh, Sweet Lord, if these aren't the purest, smoothest rap bars I've (mentally) heard in quite awhile. This was written to be "Spoken Word". Find the beat...record this.

[Lyanth]

It was part of a song I wrote, acoustic, but I changed it a bit. Wouldn't say I'm at the level of songwriting yet, but thank you for your words. Maybe some day I'll try it out.

[Carol Cashes]

*snort* I knew it! I "heard" it when I read it. Are there levels to songwriting? Rap/Hip Hop/Spoken Word lends itself to numerous beats/meters/flows within one song. Check out NF (The Search, 'Therapy Session come to mind at this moment). I urge you to pursue this medium for this particular piece. Looking forward to reading/hearing more from you.

[Lyanth]

I'm quite familiar with NF lol. I don't know how to write music, I just put things together how they are in my head.

[Lyanth]

Recently, I sat down and recorded a train of thought. I didn't post it, because it's honestly a bit mind-boggling and confusing and not a poem really, overall. But it's a good example of how my thoughts sound.

[Carol Cashes]

Well, I understood your "language" well enough when we met, so to speak, but what's mind boggling to some, is gospel and straight up BARS for others....

[Lyanth]

True lol, there are layers to language however. One can understand the basics and fundamental words or familiar terms of a foreign language, but may never know it the way the native speaker does and will always carry an accent or in this case, filtered view of it.

[Carol Cashes]

Maybe....but sure sounded like Carol-ese to me when the go-to feeling first thing in the morning was anger at the sad and pitiful wretch lookin'' back at her in the mirror. Hell, honey, that's damn near part of my beauty routine.

[Lyanth]

You sound oddly like me on a normal basis. You must be a mother, or at least married. Brings out the negativity in us all it seems.

[Carol Cashes]

Both, actually. And yup--juveniles wantin' to be delinquent and ex husbands who want to be murderers will age the happiest a*s pretty damn fast...All of this long ago, but scars don't heal pretty and you are forever marked--both inside and outside where every one you meet knows/sees/realizes pretty quick you ain't one for playin'...'cept in my own backyard--my rules, my ball...go home.

[Lyanth]

Indeed. That is a pretty intense past. Isn't life just full of unpleasant surprises. Scars don't heal, but they may fade with time and form our characters. Pain is as necessary as it is exhausting. Scars as well, give us stories to tell, things to laugh or cry about, memories of lessons learned. Reminders to appreciate what good we have when we have it.

[Carol Cashes]

Not a poet, myself, but poked at it with my writin' stick a couple of times since I've been with the Cafe. Wrote a piece about scars, indirectly (Memoirs). I, as a totally mature and enlightened grown a*s woman (*ahem*) am mostly thankful for my specific past events and stories. They conditioned me to physically and emotionally endure this last year. Hmmm....okay, all that AND a sympathetic shrink who always knows when to give and when to take away. If I wasn't 63 with a the Sahara Desert occupying my abdominal cavity, I'd offer to have his kids, but, hey? I got that good gov'ment insurance (Tricare) so he gets paid...I COULD prolly get laid iffen I was so inclined and we all smile at the end of another day....

[Lyanth]

This year has indeed been a struggle to say the least. I used to want children, in all honesty I'm coming of the mindset that I would be better off leaving the rest of humanity in peace and settling somewhere alone.

[Lyanth]

Poetry is a very subjective writing style, we all write it in our own ways. I find art without rules is the best form.

[Carol Cashes]

My best friend recently told me about my grief: it if feels right TO you, then it's probably right FOR you. Would never presume to advise you on any matter 'cept don't isolate yourself too much unless you're ready to leave life or death at the hands of someone else or Mother Nature or whatever you perceive to be the Higher Entity, if you even believe that. Myself? I have a proven record that my will to survive is strong, that my flight-or-fight response is FIGHT, then FLIGHT. And I ain't goin' at all if I don't have to...

[Lyanth]

It is a complicated matter. And at times I have come to the point I care little about striving to prevent death. I feel it has been predetermined as I have been in many life-threatening predicaments already. There are always dangers and possible accidents waiting to happen. Limiting your exposure to such and taking precautions will only save you the trouble of avoidable pain and near death experiences, but it will never alter the date. We die when it is our time, I believe, all else can and will be survived with maximum or minimal damage. I am simply a realistic being, bordering on pessimism. I find that often I am a bit much, too much for most people to handle regularly. It has become a problem and cost me many relationships and family and friends. The few people who could handle me at my fullest and very well, at that, are gone. I see no need to impose the burden upon anyone else and just seek solitude to complain and gripe in peace.

[Carol Cashes]

I don't live looking over my shoulder; I do, however, try to be cautious not careless, I am watchin' you...especially if you watchin' me, and arrange my life and affairs as to be reasonably certain that I am not unnecessarily exposed, I drive on the Interstate, usually too fast, I use waaaay too much butter to be any good for a cholesterol count, I started smoking again eight months ago (in my defense - not as much) and I only drink water when my preferred brown liquor (sweet tea) is not readily available. Not a scaredy-cat, jus' not stupid.

[Lyanth]

As we should be, intelligent, not paranoid. Somewhat amusingly for me, I don't require drugs or alchahol to induce the effects.
My brain seems capable of self-inducing intoxication and I have been asked several times during these "Episodes" If i am intoxicated and even been declared drunk.
I find it intriguing how some people go lengths without the liquid that makes up more than half of our body, but if it works for you, who am I to oppose?

[Carol Cashes]

I'm laughing as I remember that feeling is what I now recognize as sheer giddiness -- either with happiness or a childlike glee, "giddy" does feel like intoxication. "Course, when I was prospecting gold in California, hiking too fast up a mountain trail at the end of the day could make me a little light-headed, too....maybe giddy also involves an incomplete source of oxygen?

[Lyanth]

I wish it were that emotion, while I have felt it at times, the situations I speak of mostly occur when I reach my breaking point. At that point anything can happen.
One particular time I collapsed onto the floor laughing excessively like a lunatic for a good few minutes at least, over a simple, non-amusing realization.
A sad one so to speak.
No one was there but me.
I have the tendency to laugh when I cry. Both at the same time I find it both painful and hysterical. Maybe it does have something to do with lack of oxygen. I hold my breath subconsciously often.
Or perhaps what they say is true and I am losing myself more and more everyday. Did you ever find gold?

[Carol Cashes]

Yassss, lawdt! Our largest find was a half pound nugget. Worked that claim for 3 years, but when He-Who-Will-Always-Be-Nameless tried to kill me, I started my life over at aged 41 with a purse, some awesome black jeans and cowboy boots. That's all. When I left that house...I LEFT IT. Funny thing, though, after my mother died a few weeks back, I was going through some of her jewelry and found these funny shaped gold...wait a damn minute...nuggets! From my claim! The first year, I picked out six pair of the best nuggets and posts attached and sent them as gifts to the women in my family. I laughed AND cried. Yes, you can do that. In fact, while waiting for the real gritty ugly-face snot bucket cryin' to kick in...I've done a lot of real laughing.

[Lyanth]

You should write an autobiography.. You seem to have alot of stories. I'm glad you found your claim, and I'm sorry about your mother. A friend of mine lost his last year. I lost a friend and a grandfather, and possibly two more friends, I'm hoping not, but I have yet to see. I admit I don't want to get the answers for myself. I already know what they may be.

[Carol Cashes]

I lost my mother this year, but she was buried with all three of my siblings. I am the oldest of 4, and the only survivor. My sister died in 2004 of acute pancreatitis, cirrhosis of the liver (alcoholism). Mt youngest brother died in 2016, complications from Hep C, drug and alcohol abuse. My second brother died last year after years of alcoholism destroyed his body and his heart finally stopped. Sadder than all that s**t? My brothers now rest in what is essentially an "unmarked" grave. Cemeteries charge by the person, per head, so to speak, and my mother agreed with rhe funeral home that nobody needed to know there was anybody else with her but my sister. There is even more sad_ass s**t, but maybe I should dole this out sparingly, tou need a break..

[Carol Cashes]

And phone typing SUCKS.

[Lyanth]

That is indeed a rough package. You have my respect, for enduring that and keeping your head up despite. Cannot say that I relate, for my problems differ, but I have lost people, I understand that pain if nothing else. My best friend, had it worse than me.
He was abused all his life by family, friends, society, even teachers at school. At 16 he was abandoned for two years at an asylum where he was tortured in such ways as electrification and starvation. A n investigation was done shortly after due to many patients committing suicide. He was molested, raped and poisoned.
He has anorexia, schizophrenia, severe depression, OCD, adhd and severe insomnia that drives him insane at times. The simplest things make him happy..I counseled people of all ages for over 5 years and worked alot with suicidals. I've heard my fair share or horrific stories. Seen things that keep me up at night. Feel free to rant or vent about anything anytime. I'm best at listening.

[Carol Cashes]

With the exception of this past year, most of my venting on this site has been directed at young people, with talent, wallowing in inexperienced, and, quite frankly, skewed like a '60's sex ed class behind the gym perception of what "hell" is and I-wanna-just-die-now-kay?'

I had to back off my comments if they were say, under 25 and without sufficient "evidence" they had truly suffered;..I could definitely have been considered a rabble-rouser: QUIT YER CRYIN'! GET MAD, D****T! MAKE SOME NOISE AS YOU STOMP AWAY FROM WHAT IS CLEARLY NOT A KIDNAP OR HOSTAGE SITUATION. F*****G. LEAVE!! YOU'RE 21/20/19 FOR GOD'S SAKES...YOU'RE JUS' GETTIN STARTED!' GROW SOME BALLS/TITS/OVARIES/HAIR(!) AND. LEAVE.

[Lyanth]

I see, young people do have the tendency to be dramatic I admit. I quite often find myself correcting that mentality of wanting to die because at times, frustration calls for it. That moment of sheer exhaustion and unbelievable, indescribable anger with a situation that makes violence a craving. We all experience a moment of "Kill-me-now". Guess that's just life. You live, you experience, your perception changes.

[Carol Cashes]

Gotta tell ya...don't think I have ever, let's make that never said "kill me now."

Ridiculous will to survive in this aging chest. Example (but true like gospel if put to the test): If rape is inevitable but my life could be still up for debate, that sad, pathetic man would find himself with a new girlfriend, like pronto. I would caress that acne-scarred cheek and whisper loudly (to get through all that old ear wax):how I've been waitin' all my life for a take-charge kinda guy like him and how happy he's going to be when all of our children look like him...I WILL SAY WHATEVER IT TAKES TO STAY ALIVE BECAUSE NO PSYCHIATRIST IN THE WORLD CAN HELP YOU IF. YOU'RE. DEAD!!

[Lyanth]

Yes, I relate in that I have survival instinct in my veins, but the phrase "kill me now" Is not something said, rather an emotion felt, a dread, sort of wishing you could disappear and be anywhere but where you are. For me, I believe in heaven, hell and all in between. Death for me, is a mere passing from this life to the next. Since I like to think and hope I will be journeying to heaven after my time is up, death is less of a dread, less of a finality, not an end but a beginning of the next level. I enjoy my time here, when I can, but at times, look forward to moving on. For example, If I had a choice, finish my life here or die and be with my creator, I would give up the ghost where I stand. Thhis world is not my scene, I'm not suicidal and never will be, but I don't mind moving on

[Lyanth]

I've had many kill-me-now moments truthfully. But i am the type to complain and wallow just for the sake of it, then get up, get it together and tough it out. but If i'm going to push through it, I feel entitled to complain.

[Carol Cashes]

Oh, hell yeah! Bitchin' is one of the few perks of gettin' through it, whatever "it" is. Silently stoic and non-complaining was the persona only my mother had the luxury (gift?) of knowing.

I also have a strong belief in God, the promised hereafter, but I really struggle with the concept of being "ready" to go.

Hospice told me that my mother would probably die within 48 hours of going under. Six. Days. I asked her nurse that as I knew how strong and sincere her heart and mind had been ready to go to her God for some time, her physical body's will to survive was, well, both impressive and frightening. I suspect that, it's the one dominant gene in my mother's bloodline that is strong in this one. Seriously, her peoples die of LONGEVITY: 90's and 100's.

The alcoholism gene came directly from my father. I bartended in six states over a 20 year period and I really believe that the only reason I did not succumb to that particular evil like all of my siblings...is straight up vanity. i was a hottie, one of those that was "cute" for too long, making more painful when it began to fade. But I watched drunk-a*s middle-aged sad women with burnt orange beehives and turquoise eyeshadow sloppin' and leavin' with some gnarly men **shudder* * My vanity was greater than particular little soldier of Satan and I never succumbed. Vanity is vastly underrated: it will keep you lookin' right long past when you feelin' it and fake it till you make it? Yup...so far every damn time.

[Lyanth]

I only suffer in silence when I'm not alone or too tired to complain. Otherwise, I will rant to myself like a lunatic. My grandfather, was in a coma for almost 4 months before he finally succumbed to the sepsis they had given him when trying to insert a feeding tube. We prayed if he was going to go that god would take him and not make us pull the plug. God took him. I still miss him and it's been a while...We had a sort of understanding that went beyond speech. He was a loner, so was I, we both liked our peace and had no need to talk much, but worked side by side and helped each other when necessary. He was alcoholic, I used to check on him when he slept, always afraid one day he wouldn't be breathing. My biggest and really my only main fear is losing the people I value. My best friend drinks and smokes and my second best takes too much medication. Both are deteriorating in health and it's a constant struggle for me to try to get them back on their feet, and get them taking care of themselves and changing things when they lose motivation. Ironically enough, I hardly have the motivation to get out of bed some days what with my own issues, but my motivation has become, being their motivation. So that is enough to get me moving and keep me too busy to stay in bed long.

[Lyanth]

Now It's been almost a year since we were separated, they're on my mind every minute. People say I act too much like a parent, honestly I love everyone as my own children. I care for them as such, I loose sleep. At 16 I acquired white hair and an eating disorder that has stuck with me ever since as well as panic and anxiety attacks constantly and much more drama. But hey, if life were easy it would be too hard to learn. Have a great night, thank you for speaking with me.

[Carol Cashes]

Good night, chickie. Sleep tight.

[Lyanth]

thank you :)