Reflection

In the bathroom I discover the chilly world of self-reflection etching my fingers across the tiles and fixtures. For some odd reason you, someone I never talk to anymore, are often trying to interrupt my solitude here in my dreams. This constant invasion of privacy makes me uncomfortable and without reason more lonely than I already feel. Do you come to remind me that even my most secret place is up for judgement? I wonder, but then I recall the shallowness of the contact we had. Your judgement is based upon the surface of me, not the deep complicated creature that I am. This miniscule space will not give you the long breath it takes to know me.

Each time the door opens and you peek in I am here with cold fingertips. I wait. I wait for you to leave, but you often just stand there and stare. You don't know me, but I know you.