
In the corners where shadows drift and play,
you smile, all teeth, like a wisp of smoke,
whisking through my certainties, showing cracks
I once pretended weren't there. But you linger,
quiet as dust, clear as moonlit glass, and whisper:
Look closer, lean in,
and there it is—
my own reflection, grinning back.
You’re sly with the truths I don’t want to hear,
yet, somehow, I follow, footsteps reluctant.
You poke, prod, tease,
pulling strings I thought tied,
unraveling the armor I wore for show.
In your gaze, I feel small, and then vast;
you’re the Cheshire Cat, wise and quicksilver,
guiding me through the labyrinth I’ve made.
You know the Red Queen’s crown is heavy,
yet you hint, light as feathers, that I might
be fit to wear it, if I dare. So I stand,
breath held, a quiet invitation to rise,
to hold what I’ve feared, not flinch, not yield.
I hear you laughing, somewhere in the dusk—
my friend, my mirror, a voice in the mist,
you linger, winking, my constant twist.
About the Creator
Eva A. Schellinger
Content Creator, Writer, and host of Elaborations with SchellingtonGrin. Come on in, make yourself at home.



Comments (1)
Oooo, I especially loved the air of mystery this poem held!