Reflection

Those eyes that aren't my own
staring back as if they were high
off somewhere else in a dream world
full of red clouds and lightening strikes.

The mirror warps my perception;
I can't trust the face
looking back at me
as it melts like a clock
in a painting by Dali.

Who is the monster here;
the one eyed creature
fading in the background
waiting for the hands of time
to ring and chime
the waking nightmare?

Is it the ants that build a bridge
to the other world
where decay is a way of life
for other dying creatures
to feast upon like cannibals?

Eating one another
to stay alive and watch
time tick away at the clock
as if we lived in a portrait
of a mirror
looking for answers.

Then everything stops
and I awake
standing
in front of the bathroom mirror,
but there is no reflection.