CURSED

It was a comforting lie…

To be at peace with the
Fragile fairytale that my self,
Which is an utterly hollow and vague
Concept that ultimately proved to
Be a fabrication made to cope with the
Hell, absurdity, chaos, and sheer
Madness that is this thing called “Life”,
Known as “Existence”…was at all, this
Unified thing.

Surely, my mind was at ease with this so-called
Fact, which I had deemed to be true for so long, and
Did not bother to question in the slightest, for I saw
No need to do so; but then again,
Vision tends to be a selective sort
Of thing, filtering out what it would
Rather not bare witness to.

Case in point…

Glaring cracks in my shaky logic.

Perceptions abound were noticed by me,
Myriad in number. As varied and disjointed as they were,
It would appear the uniformity of my image
Would likely be torn asunder. Even I was largely
Unknown to those who I would’ve said
Knew me best. Speculation fueled the concocted thing in their heads
That would soon be laid to rest. What was my
“Real self”, the question seemed to be. How
Oddly peculiar, and strangely haunting, I thought, that
No one seemed to know me.

Hollow, vague descriptions that were based
On limited knowledge affirmed
My suspicions that all those I knew
Were entirely unaware of who I was.

Eyes glazing over as the topic was brought up,
The light fading from their eyes as their
Faces went blank, losing all expression…

Before seemingly giving answers that they
Wanted to hear.

It all happened in a split second.

Privy, everyone seemed, to a fact that I myself
Did not know.

Alone…

So decisively alone, did I feel.

But, no matter, for I still was well aware of who I was.

Until I peered within one night…

Making my eyes turn inward at the very sight of my soul.

All I was met with were teeming facets upon
Teeming facets; faces and sides warring with each
Other, hoping to devour themselves as they constantly
Degenerate and heal. Howling and screaming,
Clawing and ripping. My soul was a battlefield, a twisted
War of all against all. Yet there were moments,
Brief and fleeting as they were, where all became
Harmonious, or as harmonious as this ruckus could be
Said to be. My spirit was something I could
Not understand…

What could I even begin to proclaim
As the real me, amidst all of these contradictory and
Clashing pieces of an entirely incongruent puzzle?

Pulling away in horror, my face fell into my hands…

Glancing up at the mirror, it did not
Reflect my face, but instead
Obscured it, via a dark, terrifying shadow.

Just blank; nothing there but…

A…

Void…

Featureless…

Such a revelation…

Left me shaken to my core.

Quaking, trembling, how could it be that
My fragile human perception did not
Even comprehend my very own being?