Shining Behind Closed Doors

Just as your keys hit the desk the same way they do every night
your stomach loses its gravitational pull, springs to the top of your chest
the same way it does every night

a single glance in reflective light, the shimmer in your hair grabs the attention of your mirror image
silently you wonder if your reflective light will ever catch the attention,
of anything but a mirror image.

and with the gleam of your presence,
are you ever worth the time you took to make yourself shine,
do you ever see yourself as the monetary substances you spend
in order to exist the way you exist-
sparkling and detached as ever.

you cling to the opportunities facing you, and make them glitter
its your heart that makes the grade,
it’s the only thing you let your heart get familiar with, opportunities.

there are no simple minded tasks that will ever break you
so indulge yourself, and make them your friends
as friendly as you can get with a tangible object,
because that reflection will always remind you-

that you take breaths
that you take steps,
that your heart beats,
that you can never detach yourself
for as long as you would like to.

when the keys hit the desk, when the light switch flicks,
when you catch that glimpse of reflective image

by accident you realize,
running from your fears can only last as long as it takes
for you to realize that you,
like everyone else, you feel.

the same way you feel every night,
after a long day of repetitive detachment, of pushing your own limits
in order to push everything else away

for good reason, for good judgment, for the better of everyone
just as your keys hit the desk, crashing against smooth wood
cold tile meets your bare feet and you wonder if anyone will ever know these moments
between the facade of detachment,
when you are anything but numb.

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