You are hereNarcissism


By jamesaguiar - Posted on 23 January 2015

where comes it?
where lives the well
from which our egos swell?
We make ourselves
in recurrent iterations
relentless masturbation
of the possibilities of self.
as if to take from the shelf
all the echoed possibilities
recounted in relentless absurdity
of whom we might be.
These extrapolated fantasies
seconds of self imposed ecstasy
that months hence in retrospect.
We inspect
the deluded fantasy
of whom we thought ourselves to be.
We finally know
that this absurd show
mirrors nothing at all.
Dorian Gray will have his say
in the attics of our minds
nothing is left behind.
dusted free
we must at last see
the total sum
of the beings we have become
not monstrous or banal
but descending the birth canal
the truth that all who watch know
all was for show
the petty pace
that ends our race
gladly, we can never acknowledge
deny or admit
the truth of the skit
of our absurd life's collage.

if for seconds free
we might see
that who we are
is not in our stars
but in the souls and hearts
of those whose lives we have been a part.
knowing this
there is a chance for bliss.

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