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Disassociations
I watch him as he lies in his bed
He looks back, but he does not see me
I'm not meant to be seen
I am hidden in the empty pit of darkness,
Just on the other side of the large, arched aperature
Looking still, all he can see is his own reflection
The outside unseen, but instead, his scrying mirror
His eyes studies the visions
I pretend it is my face
I know he is scared of me, but that is why I linger
If I get any closer, I'll be brought back to myself
If only I could move
But my mind is not my own
© ST.Mortenson
He looks back, but he does not see me
I'm not meant to be seen
I am hidden in the empty pit of darkness,
Just on the other side of the large, arched aperature
Looking still, all he can see is his own reflection
The outside unseen, but instead, his scrying mirror
His eyes studies the visions
I pretend it is my face
I know he is scared of me, but that is why I linger
If I get any closer, I'll be brought back to myself
If only I could move
But my mind is not my own
© ST.Mortenson
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