The Sad Reflection, a poem by Drem

(Excerpt)”…In the silver your eyelids are sewn open with gold threads and needles so what you’ve done plays over and over on black and white film…”

I do remember having a dream about being in a maze. And I was all around the corners. And I hated what I saw.


 

The Sad Reflection, a poem by Drem

June 18, 2010. Rewritten March 20, 2016.

The image you find,

though foggy it may be,

on every hedge in the maze

is you.

You see.

The reflection that’s there

blows and pushes your rage

towards your target

a figment

of yourself

in the bushes.

Upon this mirror in play.

You bounce back up,

like a hiccup,

on to yourself

when you try to touch or punch

your twin through the haze.

She’s the victim

of your own mutilation

during high days

of your pandemonium

when only you, the orange bottles

and the silver knife mattered.

Every day

and every night

but now you’re stuck looking at her-

left or right.

Hello, you’re there.

You’re here.

She’s made of pretend.

Built of leaves and twigs

and stone and water.

The translucency tricks you

for more than one moment

and longer than you’d care to admit.

She’s driving you crazy.

Your shaking, no, trembling.

You have no secret key out.

This is you.

Face you.

You made your own hell.

You can’t look to fantasy now.

You run and you run

till round a corner you discover

a pool of silver

so you jump in

and find

yourself sinking.

It’s heavy.

Too heavy to move.

And even there,

you see your scars

and your past.

Not the memories

 you like to remember.

You have no choice.

It’s time to see

the real nightmares.

In the silver

your eyelids are sewn open

with gold threads and needles

so what you’ve done

plays over and over

on black and white film.

Then falls a rock

from the sky up above.

It goes through the passages

and lands in a wave

on the silvery pond.

The churches take notice

that the sky fell a little.

They begin to pray.

And you begin to be able to swim.

Out you go

to a stage.

A stage is in

the center of the maze.

You look in the audience,

and yes she is there.

You look at the moon

and yes she is there.

You collapse, blackout,

but she’s in your dreams.

And she’s the reflection

on the spoon

that’s feeding your mouth.

I think it’s time to face your face.


18 thoughts on “The Sad Reflection, a poem by Drem

    1. You’re one of my favorite people. In real life, I am in a lot of physical pain right now. I only slept two hours and I can barely move. I just want you to know that your kind words made me smile even though I am going through a lot. I feel really trapped in my body. My computer is my window to the world and reading that someone connected to what I wrote really lifts my spirits. And I wrote this when I was a teenager. It was 6 years ago. I’m not very old.

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    1. i take all my pain that I otherwise do not express and write it down in poetic form. It’s biographical but abstract. If you don’t do that, maybe you should. It’s a way of relief without completely facing it. I let my subconscious do the writing. Not me.

      Liked by 1 person

  1. This is so powerful. Such visual imagery – looking into a spoon, orange bottle and knife… Your life must have changed at a very fast rate and made you question your identity and you also seem to blame yourself for your illness? Hopefully one day you will look back at this and it will all make sense to you.

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    1. No, I do not blame myself for my illness (:
      Poetry is a creative outlet so things can be interpreted differently and this was based on a dream.
      This was actually about being unhappy with my appearance. So, self-esteem issues.

      Liked by 1 person

      1. In my younger days I kept diaries of dreams. I read them recently and it is quite incredible how your subconsciousness tries to analyse your situation and suggest answers for your future.

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      2. All I do is dream when I sleep so that book would be filled. But, my dreams are quite repetitive. And usually scary or sad based on real life. No escaping my days, I suppose!

        The Girl With Empty Eyes is actually a semi-continuation of this one. I posted it today.

        Liked by 1 person

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