Bags Filled with Reflection

The man in the mirror hasn't slept in a years
The bags under is eyes are growing heavy
And weighing down his cheeks
So his eye lids have no space for release
And his face always reflects a frown

hE realized that he was not his reflection
and began to look within
He packed light
and closed his eyes
Love took over
and a smile provided space to sleep

For the last few months waking up has been difficult as I open my eyes and realize my sunshine is no longer half covered by the sheets waking up next to me. Usually, when I open my eyes the sun is slowly waking up and pulling the night clouds off of her. Then I look over and gently rub over the indentation that used to caress each curve of hEr. My fingers send a lonely sensation throughout my body backstroking the hairs on my arms where they stand at attention and salute to the spirits of the missing.

I ask myself, “Why?” And another question follows in line asking, “Who Am I?” I have come to realize for approximately the last 1,050 days I defined myself as a man in love and not just a man who is in love. I expressed myself to the world solely on the fact that I was a man enmeshed by not only my feelings, thoughts, and actions, but hers also. When she hurt, I hurt. When she smiled, I smiled. But, I didn’t know that sHe wasn’t smiling at me but for the fact she was thinking of another man. My best advice to anyone in a similar situation keep your eyes on Jesus because he might steal your woman too. The truth hurts, but in hEr absence I know the sun still shines even when the sky is overwhelmed with clouds.

As I lie in bed I force myself not to think and let my body take over. My feet escort me to the bathroom to begin my morning routine. I walk to throne to relieve myself of my manly duties and out the corner of my eye I feel someone watching me. A sense of embarrassment showers over me before I even jump in the shower. I feel dirty and my embarrassment begins to entice my curiosity. I turn quickly so to see who is watching me perform my private and sacred birth rite. I am baffled its “me.” It is me watching me watching me. This is an ongoing revolution of observation I tend to indulge myself in. But, I have been trying to avoid excessive self-conceit. I don’t like being selfish. And being lonely is the most extreme case of selfishness. I outsmart myself and I freeze like a not so smooth criminal caught by red and blue lights. I know he can see me. I look deeply into his hypnotic eyes. I lose myself for a moment, but his frozen reflection blew a cold chill up my spine and I woke up.

His eyes are like mine. We have a lot of similarities. But, I am not sure who he is. As I look into his eyes all I can see is yesterday. A yesterday diluted by watered down happiness. No wonder I feel parched most of the time. Thoughts overcome my emotions and I am moved slightly. He does not seem to be bothered that I am staring at him in confusion. I ask him if we know each other. he answers in silence, which echoes from the depths of my existence off the mirror back through my windows soul. I begin to feel somewhat nauseous and I lose focus of myself. Then all of a sudden I see hEr. sHe returned for the moment. The moment I realized I lost myself. Where did sHe come from? sHe disappears. Where did she go? Where did I go? My reflection returns and has no answers for me. I am lost. SHe is lost. He left, but I am going to find him and get to know who he IS.