A Hall Of Mirrors.

O.D.

Waking up from a world I thought was real, looking everywhere and seeing multiple projections of the person I’ve become. Through slumber, I find circumstantial footage of myself, reacting to events in ways I never thought I would. A dream with a twisted idea of mathematicssubtractions I never saw coming, people dying, leaving me powerless in the wake of a situation I thought I would be able to handle. Mirrored reflections, all reacting in different ways, none mimicking my initial motions. Doing what I can, polishing the mirrors, clearing the smudges and fingerprints intended to hide my true nature; each step counts, I can feel the need for progression, I hear it, as if my shoes are laced with wind-chimes.

Has the time come for me to be open? like a graciously provided Christmas present; willing to show content I keep on the inside. A habit i’m not…

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