No Quarter

I move with the seas. With the waters. The weather. The tides rush over me and move me. Change me. I try to stay and it takes me anyway. I shift like the sands, mountains made of tiny microscopic feelings. Thoughts and shapes of other dead things. Dead relationships, settling into the abyss forever. Just waving with the sea. In and out with the tide. You can take pieces of me. It's not me though. That's not what makes me whole. It's just parts of me. Parts of other things. Dead things. Take them. I don't need them. Just another handful of sand that shifts in your hands. Slipping through the cracks and gone before you even realize. A stream of dust, lost to the wind. Put me against the heat and watch me change. See the dust turn to sheets. Solid. To glass. You see yourself in the reflection and you think, what a fun new toy. This is just like me. I like it. I want to keep it. I want to stare at myself forever. Keep working with it and turn it into a mirror. Reflect what you are. Eventually, you'll hate the image you see yourself as, and then blame the mirror. Blame the glass. Blame the sand that shaped itself by your hands into your own self projection. Blame me. It will make you feel better to not know that it was your demon the whole time. That you saw yourself. 

When the levee breaks and you see what you are, I hope you remember your mirror. I hope you know and it eats you up inside. Because you act as though you have shattered me, when you've only broken yourself. I turn back to dust. To sand. To be shaped again. And again. And again. To reflect who you are. Again and again and again. To be broken, shattered, shaped. It used to hurt to know I was used in this way. Now I feel comfort in knowing that I can show people who they really are. Whether they like it or not. It's a lonely life by the sea. Drifting in and out. But, it's the life for me. Would you be so strong to reflect and feel other's projections? Weak, naïve, I've been called a lot of things. But, strong and forever is the truth of it. 

I feel it all. All the energy people project. It's weird to be around some people. They can't feel themselves. I didn't feel myself for a long time. Not until I stopped and listened. It took a long time. It wasn't a single thing. A single person. A single event. But. Overtime, I felt myself. I felt my own space. I reflect it back to people. What they have in their energy. Unless... I feel something that is strong. The turbulent, the hard to feel. You can keep that energy. I don't even have to reflect it anymore. I don't like it to pass through me. I have to. I have to let it. But, then I get away. Whenever I can. I look into their dead eyes and I see their horror. My eyes glisten and I remove myself, politely. I do not need to be a lamb in a lions den. Especially bored ones. When I find another mirror, things get... interesting. I always feel like things get gossipy quick. There's a period of time where I want to give in and be catty and then I remember myself. Who I am, whom I've become. And I smile and remember, I am not that person anymore. So, I will often politely listen and not comment. They will figure it out. It's not their time. They can only see the reflection reflecting. It's blinding. But, it's not my job. Strangely, the mirror learns from other's treatments. Not from another mirror. Seems backwards. I didn't make it this way. It just is. As far as I have experienced. If you're lucky... you get a calm person. An energy like no other. Staring into the sun. A golden feeling. Nostalgic  Golden honey on your tongue. Instant calm for anyone. Everyone who can feel it is mesmerized. If you cannot feel it, you still know it. It's pleasant to be around people like that. Close to the sun. It's easy to forget that everyone is mesmerized. I can usually be lucky enough to feel the sun long enough to want to keep it. It never belongs to me. 

I am ruled by the moons. By the pull of the currents. I know that you cannot keep the moon. Nor the sun. People still think they can hold onto the sun. Just like they think they can hold onto the moon. That the tides won't come in, eventually, and wash away your feelings. It's startling and vulnerable, necessary and devastating. Watching the castle you made all day, wash away into the darkness. But, it was mine! You think, but it never was. The sand doesn't belong to you. Or anyone. It belongs to me. Only me. Unless you are the moon. Or the sun. 

Sometimes that type of calm person makes me skittish. I feel jittery. Like I need to move. The energy that is calming to others, makes me want to run. I want it too badly. To not ever know what it's like to not be around it. It makes me feel strange. To feel that kind of person... the turmoil inside. The calm that others get from them. I feel the calm. It's beautiful. But, it comes with a price. Only the price a mirror would know. I let it pass through me. I don't move. Sometimes, I do. I feel it pass through me, the tragedy. I see the sadness that glistens in their eye. It looks kind and innocent. Sweet and loving. The honey that touches your tongue. But, there's notes that no one else can see. Feel. Taste. The bitter. The storm. The part that makes me want to run. That makes others run. They get caught like a trap, then they always will be let go. Because not many can withstand the tides. I can. I do. I sit still and feel it run through me. It's exhilarating and the thrill is enough to make me giddy. I can't help but fall like everyone else does. To just look into the pools of honey and get caught up in the sticky mess. It's a shame that they never realize that I'm not just here like a blind baby- I fucking see you. I see right through you. And the calmness that you let others feel. The shield that you put up doesn't work with the mirror. Because I know how you feel.