One of the Faceless

[absinthe_cafe]

It's times like these when I wonder
Who first decided
that loners liked being alone,
sitting in a corner,
miserably looking from the outside in

(You see, it's been so long since I was like that myself
That I forgot my own memory-
I was unwanted because I wanted to be,
Alone because that was better than being a hypocrite)

Just like how I ask myself
Who first decided
that I was a loner, angry, cold, callous?
That I hated pity, love, romance?
Just who was it who decided I was so independent?

…Was it me?

Am I now wondering when I first decided
That I liked being alone
and I liked the corners
and the darkness
and the misery,
Looking in at a shell of myself
talking to those people on the inside?

But even now I know that
They have no faces
And I'm staring at them
Through glass like cracked mirrors
And if I stare too long
I'll have no face either
And I wonder who I am,
If I'm watching or talking
Or am I one of them already
Observing my faceless self
And I wonder

Just who am I watching?

because it wasn't too long ago
that I was one of the desperate,
pleasurably lowering to lick my blood off the floor
to feel the caress of my master's careless fingers
and the cobra's smile on her lips,
hating it only because of how I craved it
despising myself and still despising myself,
for now I am the master

And it's times like these
when I would sell my soul
Just to see the Devil's smile

(c) 2011 Trina Rutz