by Josh Quale
At times I feel I’m
stuck inside myself-
as if by chance or
random circumstance I
misplaced the exit sign
that leads me outside.
Alone on a park bench with
a one way conversation, and
through my only looking glass,
the voices and the shadows cast
colorful shades and filters
on what I see.
The colors overwhelm me
andd the voices speak their mind,
and precisely when I’ve given up
on sight, im compelled to stop
by the awkward scene that unfold before me.
I see in another’s staring eyes
a picture of the man i was.
though but a glimmer, I can see
the man that sits outside of me-
though different, skewed, distorted
in a way…
and then i found the reason why:
im seeing me through this man’s eye
Im in him, and he’s in me and
if for only a moment, i wonder if
he can see himself inside of me.