on Windows, Take Two

I hate looking out windows at night:

The glass that once was crystal clear,
Now obscured by a light too near.

That inky blackness which hangs outside
Unseen by me, no need to hide.

My world mirrored in that deceitful space
That should show the outside, not echo this place.

I’ll stare at myself, the me in the mirror,
And he’ll stare back with eyes that are clearer.

I can’t stand to see myself in those spheres;
Really seeing myself is one of my fears.

So I flip a switch, the lights go dim,
The mirror shatters and I’m rid of him.

From darkness within I see darkness without:
It’s from the light that insecurities spout.

Now finally, with metaphors purged from my head
I can crawl under cover, crawl into bed.

The End

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