Walk the halls
head kept down
ignoring the reflected images.
Taunting
each one a different facet
a different aspect of me.
One screams
silent in her terror
eyes wide
hands held out to shield
ward off
dangers coming at all sides.
One watches
bleeding black eyes
lips disappearing into a rictus smile
resigned
forgotten
leans through the frame
reaching for me.
One rages
fire
flame
destruction flies from fingertips
never calmed
never quieted
even as tears gather in my eyes.
End of the line.
No where for me to run.
No where for me to hide.
Steps falter
as I look up
seeing images of me
dancing in the prisms of the mirror.
One
two
three
stop looking at me.
Three
four
five
spy the missile on the ground.
Six
seven
eight
stand up straight.
Nine
ten
let fly
shattering the images
glass spewing around
down on me
as each aspect
black
grey
red
stream towards me
even as I flee.
©Oct. 22/19
Picture via Pinterest
The Wonderful and Wacky World of One Single Mom 
Wow! Loved this one! I wish I could learn to write this kind of poetry-I don’t know why mine always has to rhyme, maybe because I’m so musical at heart!
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I innately follow an a/b pattern. I use to drum my fingers to count out when I began to write poetry. Throughout the years it slowly evolved. And no one is seeing my earlier poems lol. Now I write and let it flow out of me. I am not depressed at all but had image of mirror and multiple selves. Amd I am so glad you really enjoyed. 🤓💜
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I like several of those lines. Nicely done!
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Thank you so much. 🤓💜
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