Abyss

I look into the mirror
It's not a big and shiny one
It's small and round
Mounted on a wall that is painted yellow

It's not a clear mirror
And though today I scrubbed it's surface well
It is still not showing me all the details of my face

Or may be
May be I am disappearing
Bit by bit

Been long since I looked into a mirror
But today, suddenly I wished to
After my finger refused to tell me
The exact shape of marks
Left on my cheek after I got hit.

I try to peer closely
Tilt the mirror this way and that
But it is too old and dull
Plus, I think I am crying

Night is here
Once again knocking at my door
And my heart trembles at the thought of meeting it again.

Some night bug singing outside the window
An eerie song, ghostly sound
I hear the sound of feet walking on wet grounds
I hold my breath

You whisper my name
Where are you?
Lights are out
No use of mirror now
I slowly push it under bed

Hushhh
I don't want to make any sound
I feel arms rising out of darkness
Trying to grab me

You whisper my name again...
I am trying to find you
Where are you?
Where are you?

I close my eyes
Tears burn inside
I open them
And look into the abyss
Of dark night....

Falling now
I try to pray
I don't know the words
You have taught me
I can't remember

I am falling
Down down down

Give me your hand

You can't
You are trying to cut your rope
You can't give me your hand

I scream
Papaaaaa

He won't come
He is not home

Alone
I pull out the mirror
I know it would reflect me
Light is missing
I hug the cold glass close
Like hugging my own corpse

Falling now
I can't scream more.

Reviews

[Shabeeh Haider]

Prayers will work and things will get better. This is such a heart breaking write. {{HUGS}}

[SHAHNAWAZ NOOR MUHAMMAD]

It touches my heart I couldn't get it completely but overall this is a meaningful poem. Keep writing these kind of poems because you're outstanding and your work is too.

[jacob erin-cilberto]

sometimes we just don't want to see what someone else is doing to us...we take the abuse, look into the mirror and ignore the signs...

love the two lines about the cold glass and hugging my own corpse.

and the last two lines remind me of the end of " Looking for Mr. Goodbar"

so Plathian this poem...

j.