Halls of the Dark Muse

Introspective

I want no more of mirrors,
of eyes staring out at me
while enraptured looking in

I want no more self-examination;
counting off my bones one by one
with cruel uncaring fingers,
seeking out faults

Raptured within myself;
pain self-inflicted,
not by pins and needles
or razor blades, but
introspection

Living in broken fragments,
I wish I could put them back
together in abstraction;
let me slip away in an
impressionist painting where
lines are blurred away

Van Gogh could capture
me in his strokes, let his
mad eyes sear through
my soul

If I could disjoint my soul
perhaps all my reflections
would become lost
and then this world
would never touch me