thewaitingone

I could simply touch it with my finger
and it would pop.
Snap open and leave a film.
It was necessary to survive.
It woke me every morning.
It sang me to sleep each night.
I hurried home each evening because
I had to be near or die.
You hated it even though you
shaped it with me.
It floated higher and higher, and
you hated to see it reflect your face.
"Don't take a candid picture of me!"
You warned us all.
It was dumb and deaf and showed YOU
to yourself.
I loved you and your reflection.
That disgsted you even more.
It broke in the early morning dark.
My eyes stung and ran with salt tears
at the breaking.
You siged and pointed to the door.
It felt as solid and real as hot, steel train rails.
It was as only as imaginary as pain.
What the Hell am I saying?