A mirror is turning.
It speaks to me. Scenes of my life are flashing in front of me.
"You did it because you enjoy control", a voice says.
A different voice interjects: "No you wanted to help"
"Did you really?", the first voice responds.
"At least you are not responsible", another one says.
And a final thought rests in itself:
"You'll always be responsible"
A mirror is turning.
"This needs to be looked at."
"No it doesn't", I reply.
The mirror turns into a large dark figure.
Its fingers are pale and frozen.
It places its hand on my forehead, like a doctor checking for a fever.
"He's the worst I could possibly manifest", I think.
A mirror is turning.
It speaks to me. My thoughts turn into a melody.
No, it's a bass line.
No, it's an arpeggiated harmony.
No, it's a heartbeat.
"Who are you advocating for?" ... his voice cuts into me.
"For myself", I reply.
But he's not interested in atonement.
He only cares about the truth.
His hands are gripping my head; I feel the cold of his fingers on my neck.
A mirror is turning.
It shatters. Its pieces form new segments.
Faces looking back at me: Some proud, some ugly, some beautiful.
One of them is his. A dark silhouette without any features.
Impartial. Merciless. Intriguing.
"Who are you advocating for?"
"I don't know", I reply.
He seems pleased.
His fingers cut into my carotid artery.
They slowly detach my head.
A head is turning.
His eyes pierce into the base of my skull.
"This needs to be looked at", he says.
I squeeze my eyes shut and turn away.
A dark silhouette without any features.
"If you had the chance to do it all again, what would you do differently?"
I pause.
"Nothing", I reply.
The words reverberate throughout his halls.
Warmth returns to my body.
He nods.
A mirror is turning.
I shatter it.
It's shards are spread out across the floor.
Keine Kommentare:
Kommentar veröffentlichen