Mirrors

Mirrors

I crumble among the bones of my salvation and as i try to get myself up i look around and smell the scent of death invading my body and soul. A sculpture made of my own flesh and blood representing the abstract thoughts of my decaying mind. I tremble as i write this words defying my own existence without fear of embracing this never ending madness. Sometimes i just want to explode and be left in pieces, too tiny to be recognized too distant to be remembered. There are days when i believe that everything is just a dream, a temporary construct of my feeble mind , a poor representation of reality. I count the days until my ultimate demise, with wonderous spirit i conclude that i'm already dead.