What’s more alive, my reflections or I?
Do they reveal my inner side?

Are shiny surfaces doors to parallel universes?
Where everything is opposite, and I am the inverse

Do my loves become my hates?
Do my hates become my loves?
Or can I feel here and not there?
Do I breathe, and is there air?

Maybe that world is more real then this one, lately that would make more sense.
For I feel nothing like myself, and everything is less intense.

My hobbies are boring,
Things just feel a mess,
My free time feels wasted,
And I feel noting beating inside my chest.

What do I have to do to feel alive?
To feel happy,
Get excited,
To feel loved,
And not pushed aside.

When I look in a mirror, do I see my other side?
Do I see the positive me looking back at the negative side?

Am I real, am I alive?

David E. McCarthy
05/2008