Energy
I can feel a room as if it was my skin,
the emotion swirling endlessly
a drop in tone in a voice
the eyes narrowing.
the rise of a chest
the fall of a mood
quite moments
empty spaces
a liars glance
between two.
I can tell if you are sad
your mask, broken
beneath my gaze
I can tell if you lie
your tone of voice
gives way.
I know more
of you then
me, I can see
your energy.
But myself I can not read
I feel my own self apathy
an empty shell to reflect
your sorrows and regrets.
A mirror of silver glass,
cracked enough to pass
as a shadow of a self,
Leftovers of someone else.
Copyright © Jeff Smith | Year Posted 2024
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