Canvas

The incessant reflection of my eyes staring at me is,

Unerving

always lurking, watching, reminding me that

I am an unfinished product

A construct

A practice run at optimism 

A cataclysmic dead end street

Begging to retreat inside itself where it is safe and warm

Where no one wonders why or asks what if

I am a theory

An ideology

A myth

My existence is futile, meaningless

and never ending simultaneously

I am a song in the summer breeze

I am the terror in a victim's screams

I am everything, and I am nothing.