Images

As I lie on my bed,
my head against the wall,
I see an image.
I think to myself:
Who is that image in front of me?
It looks like me,
moves like I do,
but its not me,
is it?
Then I start to think.
Who am I really?
Am I just another typical goody-two-shoe?
No. No. No.
I’m not.
I yell.
I scream.
I cry.
I hope.
I don’t respect myself anymore.
I do bad things.
Then I wish everything would be alright after.
Is that so bad?
Is that too much to ask for?
Yes.
I bring it upon myself that I have these problems.
Then I go back to that image in the mirror.
I know who it is...
It is I,
And I see that I am not who I used to be.
by Nova Syfu, May 1995