Weeds of Indifference

I talk to myself in the still mirror

tracing a trail of tiny air pebbles,

I stop breathing in synchrony

to your heartbeat, encased

in a folded cage, trapping me

in a place I try valiantly to escape.

You can’t hear me in my mirror

my words are scattered, invisible

a translucent force, backhanding me,

in an eye blink, I turn to face nothing,

obliterated swirling thoughts, unknown.

Why can’t anyone else hear me?

I am mirrored in the weeds of indifference

surely you know what I am saying, but

my open estuary confesses only to me.

I beg of you to feed my raging fire

by listening to the image in my mirror.

Must I be the only one to validate

my worth, hidden in intensity?