Mirror To My Soul

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You can see me for who I am
How I look, Where I go
What I choose to do
But little will you know ‘why’
And that’s who I really am.

Like the many others trying to make sense of the world,
I observe. I feel. I speak.
I’d lend you an ear, I could sit and talk
I might fight you and help you pick up the pieces later
I could rage a storm, but I would prefer peace
We’d share a smile or cry together
I might fancy someone, ignore a couple
You’d know me till the layers I let you see through
And no more.

I am that me
Who you might not see
Neither do I sometimes
Hence, trying to find myself in others

I am the creation of many
The many emotions that reflect
Off my laughter and tears
The waves of love and hate
Together, carrying me across life.

I am not just my words
I am their echo in your eyes;
I am not to be counted within the minutes I spare
Instead, count me in the moments
That remain a part of you
I shall not be restricted to the faces of the accepted and the known
Because as I leap across the limits of
Curiosity and collateral truths
You will safeguard my secrets and sins
I may not be conscious of the path I tread
As long as I see the light
Reflecting off your face unto mine

I am made of glasses
Some painted at the back – mirroring your soul
Refracting your scars, your grin
Trying to make sense of your voice above the din.

I can be the squeaky clean glass of
Your French window heart
My world, your scenery
My life, your storybook.
But only a few get to look.

Glasses break and lives shatter
As equations alter and steps falter
I learn. I seek. I follow.
Only to know better than what I knew yesterday –
To know you and cut my jigsaws accordingly

I am not what you see
I am what you show me to be.

Irony of Liars

I fear the lies I might hear. The broken truth that could make me feel lost in a world I, otherwise , know like the back of my hand. So like my mother tried to drive away my childhood fear of ghosts by making me believe their non-existence, I try that trick with lies. 

But while convincing myself that truth has no antonyms, I realise the irony of liars.

 

There are no lies
Strictly miracles and magic
That make things happen the
Way you know it to be
Only people use the wrong spell sometimes
There are no lies
Just words put together
Stringed in the mind of faith
In perfect sequence and serenity
They just sound different when you hear them
There are no lies
Maybe role playing, a little screenplay
Maybe Shakespeare was right
Maybe all the world’s a stage
If only the irony was stage fright
There are no lies
Only the truth
Plain, transparent like a clear sky
On a summer day
That shows you the endlessness of
Blue, of sunshine and life
There are no lies
There’s truth- hidden, opaque, covered, blackened out
Like a thunderstorm at night
Blinding light, the black closing in on the
Infinity we once witnessed
Enraptured, unguarded
There are no lies
But there are storms
That rip you apart
Send you fumbling
In a sea of misconceptions, misnomer
Misguided, you walk into the dark
There are no lies
Just forgetful beings on
An uphill maze; like cobwebbed streets
And unending ways
The maps never seen, never made!
There are no lies
Fiction is for the books
It is exactly how it looks
Don’t  tell me otherwise
There are no…
There are no lies
THERE ARE NO LIES
There are NO lies
there are no lies
Are there?