PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

Soaking wet, water beading down the curvature of your body, culminating in a puddle resting at your feet.



Towel wrapped around your body in an attempt to caress the moisture from your flesh into its fabric, before it falls to the floor.



In a frantic motion your arm moves towards the steam ridden glass hanging lifeless in front of you.



With each passing motion you are able to break down the fog shedding light on the mirror that lay behind a barrier of condensation.



Finally, the fog clears, the dew disappears, and your reflection appears within the glass, hanging there as if it were a portrait in The Louvre, as if The Mona Lisa had been mounted in your bathroom.



Examining this image that is looking back at you as if it were in fact conducting the examination.



Staring, focusing in on its detail all the while careful not to blur the image with movement, you become lost within the picture now staring harder at you than you at it.



What Is There?



The reality of what is there begins to resonate and slowly eats you away…



All Alone, no one able to prevent the mental battle of self examination that is afoot, you are left to fend for yourself in the deepest corners of your self, forced to walk through soul and examine the essence of who you are and how you have come to be.



So deeply buried by the overwhelming whirlwind of thought scraping the very barriers of your mind as if they were the redwood trees of California stretching to the skies blocking the sensation of light leaving you alone in the barren forest that are your thoughts.



Removed from your body, you walk through the dark forest and begin to watch the filmstrip of decisions and mistakes made far more than once.



The First Question: What?



The answers quickly materialize only to batter you with the painful realizations of your past.



Your selfish practices and fool-hearty conceit outline like a boring biology power point presentation.



The countless lies you have told block you from advancing on your journey to self-realization and are awarded there long overdue confrontation with your conscience. Left without an option you are forced to face each one along with the havoc they have reaped.



Following the highlight reel of your deception, the choices which you made that disregarded any sense of social or moral obligation are next to join the beating that your conscience is delivering to your self-perception. With no choice, you are made to confront all those whom you have hurt, and left to hang in the breeze along the way.



The Second Question: Where?



You ask yourself where you were trying to get that you so foolishly thought you would be able to succeed in the journey alone, burning every bridge as you crossed it. Waiting for an answer you are left in silence, for there is no answer to such a question.



The Third Question: Who?



Who are you, what have you allowed yourself to become? For lost within your own reflection deep in analysis with is truly buried within the image of yourself that now stares at you with a condescending gaze as if it is ashamed of what it sees.



Looking at you through the glass, not knowing how much time has passed, you continue to stare hoping you have stumbled on some fictitious mirage, yet reality sets in and you are left with the realization that who you are staring at is not a villain from the cinema but it is you. Looking through the glass, not knowing how much time has passed; well now it feels like forever.



Unsatisfied, your concentration gives way the mental fuck-show that is your ADD, and you return to the real, left once again standing in a puddle of drip-drops that have long since ceased from cascading down your body.



The chill of the wet tile forces you to shake off the sense of discontentment felt for that which you have just been privy too; the steam escaping through the pulled open curtain of your shower rushes towards the glass and a fog cascades over the glass hiding the image, shielding you from the whirlwind of your conscience, and you are relieved.



Slipping your wet feet into the dry slippers resting in front of the sink cabinet you re-wrap your towel around you and exit the bathroom.



One question remains; armed with the knowledge of What, Where, and Who, what will you do now? Only time will tell: But when the day comes that may face you with another such confrontation, you now know that there is no escape from who you are. For when you stand in front of that glass yours is THE ONLY FACE IN THE MIRROR.