Prose Header


No One Knows

by Kaelen Myril


The man in the mirror
stands,
adjusting his tie
in perfect rhythm
with the man on the other side.

Soft loafers sunk
in softer shag,
even familiar
cannot bring security.

Something’s coming,
something’s coming!

His mind gives way
and heart freezes.
Tired of being afraid
and not knowing why,
thoughts loose and
disjointed
fall through his head
like a sieve.

Shadows tease the eye,
he jumps, and begins
to tremble in time as
the radio carries its tune.
“No one knows what it’s like
to be the bad man,
to be the sad man,
behind blue eyes.”

Blue stares back
from the mirror
and fumbling fingers
fall to the side.
Trembling giving way
to quaking makes the
man in the mirror smile.

Pulling, yanking, tugging,
felt so long upon a soul,
now felt on a body
when a hand reaches through
and grabs the tie.
Naught but a whimper
drowned by an ad
for used cars.
“No! Please...”
He is forced toward
destruction and death.

The man in the mirror
stands,
adjusting his tie
in perfect rhythm
with the empty room on the other side.

Indentations fade quickly
leaving no trace.
The radio plays on, making it harder
to hear screams under glass.

Blue stares out
from the mirror,
capturing soul and body
with just a look.

No one knows what it’s like
to be me
behind blue eyes.

But you will...


Copyright © 2007 by Kaelen Myril

Home Page