Solving The Puzzle That is Me

In one hand I hold a dagger, in the other I hold my heart.
To Join hands would be the end of my hope, and the beginning of a forgotten yet familiar sorrow.
In my chest is a key, in my head is a lock.
Throughout my body twist the cogs and springs I hope to one day bring to synchronicity.
I am the enigmatic, the perplexing, the man who doesn't even know himself.
I am the reflection, an inverted image, a copy.

In one hand I hold my heart, in the other I hold a dagger. With the former I carve into myself and reach inside. Here I find the cogs in motion.
I take the key leaving my core hollow.
I now clutch the key in one hand, my bleeding heart in the other.
I insert the key, turn the key, and align the tumblers.
The gears inside begin to turn in unison, their rhythm resonating through my body.
The permeating vibrations loosen the ice gathered around me.
Full motion, spinning, winding, celebrating the fact that I am no longer dormant.
In both hands I hold the answers.