Prose

unclear clarity.

written by: johannalabeat

One, Three, Five.
My heart skips a beat or two.
My mind rewinds, then stops. No, crashes and declines.
Picking up my hangover the mirror stares, no, glares at me.
Who is this universal traveler who's mind has been explored, colonized, overrun and undersized?
And where have her resources gone?

Two, Six, Ten.
I fall on the earth again and collapse into her grit.
Praying to be omitted from the consequences, taken from the blame.
I stare into the dirt, stripped of sanity and alert, and laugh at my half-ass wit.

One, Two, Three
I look up and see myself in a cracked out mirror.
Only to realize that my clarity is unclear.
I cant forget the debt, the benevolent bet.
For the mirror speaks only of the cost.
I miss my mind the most, of all the things i've lost.