Likened to the Universal idea of what shines back at me,

Through the endless paneled panes of mirrored eternity;

There is a shadow beneath the cold – belonging to my secrets, yet untold;

The only remaining pieces left anymore of this garbled identity.

Untouched by the madness of a place that’s killed me,

The ugliest elements of something I’d rather not be;

I’ve spent so many years – swallowing down resistant tears;

So long ignoring the very roots that bind the Earth to this tree.

As silent as the drum-busting vacuum of space,

A secret truth anchored soundly behind the lie of my face;

I know the drill – always have and I always will;

A paradox black hole owns every inch of this place.

Even memories aren’t safe with me anymore,

All twisted and warped into different versions from before;

Forgotten voices ring out in the echoing halls –…