The crack running down
the reflective surface
splits me evenly.
Two pupils, on either side,
don’t meet eye to eye.
Two souls, but one body.
One showing the light,
The other swallowed in black.
Black and white, half and half.
But, nothing is ever that easy.
Monday, no fluorescent glow
Breaches my conscious.
Tuesday, I’m illuminating a
Dreary hallway, sometimes for days.
Other times, maybe a minute.
Minutes to days. Days to hours.
Two pupils search, and find different truths- lies?
Each drawing from the same source with no end in sight.
One body, two outcomes.
Not even the mirror can reflect the truth.
By: Erin Winans
I’m in a bit of a rough patch right now. But, I’m working on things
developingpoet 