Left Blank

I was walking down the stairs

And I fell through the 5th step

Only to come to a world

Uncanny

I saw a replica of myself

Bleeding at the palms

But there was no expression

Of Pain

There are mirrors on the fortress

An assemblage of books

I picked one up

And the pages flipped by themselves

The story came out

Unto a nearby mirror

But for my eyes.

It was bent gibberish

I went to a piece of wall

With no mirror covering

And touched it with my bleeding palm

I was a beautiful girl

But my eyes were made of glass

Pure, sheer glass

And I knew why my palms bled

My eyes

Were wet

And my face

Was clammy

And my hands Had been cut

By my wet

Clammy faced eyes

I was so unhappy

I was surreal

I had no future

No past

No present

Only bleeding palms

And mirrors

That shined on those glass eyes

I closed my real eyes

For a milli-second

And I was back on the stairs

Sitting down

On that first step

And I realized

I had an epiphany

My palms were not bleeding

I was not un-pretty

I was the daughter

Of God himself Because I saw

My post-destiny

Through his eyes

Alone