I am closing walls and open doors,
A memory painted on the windows of your soul
In any color you like, as long as it is a shade of black.
I am discontinuous, a broken mirror
Glued together, dried blood in between the seams
Showing off the sacrifice of those who put it back together.
I am hard, but brittle, words hiding the words I cannot speak,
A stream of consciousness bouncing off the walls
And drowning out whispers of truth.
I am a non-conformist conformist, confused and elated
About that which I do not understand, and left wondering
What it will mean in the end.
I am night without day and day without night, volatile,
Everlasting, and fragile, at the mercy of myself,
At the mercy of myself and everyone who has ever met me.