The Locksmith Inside My Mirror
Watching me, waiting for me
The Locksmith Inside My Mirror
The locksmiths inside my mirror
waiting with his keys
his eyes are hollow
his mouth does not move
yet I hear him
He knows the cracks in my skin
he counts the shadows in my room
each night he stands closer
hand curled around iron teeth
that never rust
I do not ask which lock he keeps
or which door he will open
I only know the sound
of turning metal
echoing where no sound should be
The glass shakes when I breathe
his silence speaks louder than prayer
and I cannot turn away
for he waits
and he is patient
The locksmiths inside my mirror
waiting with his keys
The shadows crawl across the floor
and I feel them reach for me
About the Creator
Marie381Uk
I've been writing poetry since the age of fourteen. With pen in hand, I wander through realms unseen. The pen holds power; ink reveals hidden thoughts. A poet may speak truth or weave a tale. You decide. Let pen and ink capture your mind❤️
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Comments (5)
The words and image are frightened, and I hope you do not mind but could your locksmith be that dreaded Long COVID illness. Great work on this one.
This is creepy. Excellent poem.
The idea of a locksmith with keys waiting in the mirror gave me goosebumps.
That image and your words are scary but excellent
I love this! Especially "iron teeth that never rust." I hope you are feeling good, sweet lady. ⚡💙⚡