Mirrors
What do you see when you look at me?
Anyone who's stopped by here has seen me, seen my face. I wonder, those that once knew me, those that now know me, which of my many images have you seen? The socialite, who wanders about the room, asking names for faces he'll never see again, and thus forgets like a clod? The dreamer, who sees things for what they might be, rather than what they are, and thus lives in a world of rich possibilities? Do you see the warrior? The lone fighter who's only wish is to die in battle fighting for something? Do you see the romantic, and all of the right things he wants to do and say that are usually stifled by the others? Do you see the shy little boy? The faithful servant? The student? The scientist? The businessman? The creator? The philosopher (Oh, heaven forbid you see him, he can go on so!).
Maybe it's the liar. Oh, how I hate him. I was an actor long before I ever set foot on a stage, I'm afraid. I keep him in check, I think, but has he hurt you without my knowledge?
Perhaps the protector. That part of me that wants to help people. It seems lately anyone I try to help gets hurt, and they go to someone else. I used to thrive living in his world, because it gave me purpose and being. But then, those I protected grew strong enough to fly on their own, or found another to cling to. But I digress.
Or do you see him. The monster. The beast. The part I like to pretend isn't there, but who rears his ugly head when my temper is spent. The one who wants to use the power my size and strength provide for anything! He's feral, unfeeling, and cold. He just wants me to let loose, to set him free. Allowed to reign destruction on this world that has hurt him so. No, I don't think you see him. My own private Mr. Edward Hyde, I suppose, though I'm certainly no Jekyll.
Who we are is mirrored in the eyes of those who see us.
What do you see? Please, tell me.
Anyone who's stopped by here has seen me, seen my face. I wonder, those that once knew me, those that now know me, which of my many images have you seen? The socialite, who wanders about the room, asking names for faces he'll never see again, and thus forgets like a clod? The dreamer, who sees things for what they might be, rather than what they are, and thus lives in a world of rich possibilities? Do you see the warrior? The lone fighter who's only wish is to die in battle fighting for something? Do you see the romantic, and all of the right things he wants to do and say that are usually stifled by the others? Do you see the shy little boy? The faithful servant? The student? The scientist? The businessman? The creator? The philosopher (Oh, heaven forbid you see him, he can go on so!).
Maybe it's the liar. Oh, how I hate him. I was an actor long before I ever set foot on a stage, I'm afraid. I keep him in check, I think, but has he hurt you without my knowledge?
Perhaps the protector. That part of me that wants to help people. It seems lately anyone I try to help gets hurt, and they go to someone else. I used to thrive living in his world, because it gave me purpose and being. But then, those I protected grew strong enough to fly on their own, or found another to cling to. But I digress.
Or do you see him. The monster. The beast. The part I like to pretend isn't there, but who rears his ugly head when my temper is spent. The one who wants to use the power my size and strength provide for anything! He's feral, unfeeling, and cold. He just wants me to let loose, to set him free. Allowed to reign destruction on this world that has hurt him so. No, I don't think you see him. My own private Mr. Edward Hyde, I suppose, though I'm certainly no Jekyll.
Who we are is mirrored in the eyes of those who see us.
What do you see? Please, tell me.
posted by Matt at 12:37 AM
2 Comments:
Wow you are beautifal. I have seen many pieces of you, and there are pieces that I still have yet to see and would love to see. We are all a bunch of little parts so when I look at you I see many things not just one.
Wow you are beautifal. I have seen many pieces of you, and there are pieces that I still have yet to see and would love to see. We are all a bunch of little parts so when I look at you I see many things not just one.
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