Pointy needles of your eyeliner

shoot out darts.

Eyes icy blue but behind

the warmth is darkling, still.

This gloom we share,

she is smiling at me,

             she knows my secrets.

Are you seeing a void of my self-doubts?

Pencils on your table are so sharp

will draw blood if touched neglectfully.

Unnecessary disappointment is read

in my eyes on a daily basis.

Your stoic figure is visible from every direction,

             or is it you?

Boyish cut and pensive thoughts.

Your laughter piercing me with hundreds of daggers

notes are the fragments ringing through my ears.

Projection of your world

through my lenses of insecurities.

I know this is a paranoid fantasy

but if such experiments outweigh

it becomes an empirical truth.

No scriptures required

               or sensibility.

The case where logic and rationale left

               minutes,

                             hours,

                                           days early.

I look at your cat with guilty stare.

I like to startle her.

She hates it,

never shows herself when I am home,

reluctant about almost anything.

Who has the patience to earn

the friendship of the creature

who is always afraid?

Your table desk is a battlefield of passions,

              anxiety and addiction.

Tools, clips, papers - chronology of loud objects.

It is a map of treasures

hidden in a hard plastic case.

The language of it is long ago forgotten.

I make attempt to start decoding it -

futile endeavor.

From the ground I pick up a spear

metal is heavy and cold

             with sharp point.

Frightened by the realization

I lift my eyes

but all I see is myself

           staring back at me

                          at the looking glass.

The drop of brilliant ruby red blood

drops on the floor.