Zirconia All the Way Through

 I can only hope my reflection refracts. An image of

myself, untameable. There’s a portrait of my face

conforming to the contours of your eyes, 

too close. Almost real, I hate it. 

Please don’t stare for too long. 

I’m prone to discomfort, 

prone to hurt, 

pathetic beneath your gaze. 

Please don’t let your eyes linger any longer, 

I’m a victim to your sight, 

vulnerable under pressure, 

vapourising when met with your vacant stare. 

You will never understand, it would take you 

one glance to see right through me. 

I hide very little from your vision, 

my cracks are visible from where you stand. 

There is nothing to find. 

This stare still lasts long. You waste it, I promise.

There is very little under the surface. 

What you see is what you get. 

If only you asked, this could be different. 

There’s a weight on my shoulders that you could have known.

It’s my weak and meagre heart, 

shattered by seeing myself in your eyes. 

I can only hope my reflection scatters. An image of myself,

hollow and unreadable. There’s a portrait of my face

where my confident veneer is deep, 

convincing. Almost real, I want it.