Mirrored Glass

Only that in you which is me can hear what I am saying.

This is your beginning, a positively imaginary image. Indeed, I know what you have become, and also what you were once. I know, because I created you. Nothing is impossible in one's mind, and I had no rest until I turned my own mind into an impossible to understand one.

This is my ending, a positively ordinary object. No doubt that you wonder how you got here. Do you know your story? Will you ask me to share it? Will that eagerness with which I gave you shape be present in your voice, when the time comes to face me? Will your blue eyes sink in my own, and will your little white hands cover your both ears, when I begin my tale?

Will you recognize me in you? And will you betray me? Will you claim your superiority and say your age is twice mine?

Whatever your reaction is going to be, I will keep silent. For my aging will neutralize yours, and we will become one. That is my beginning. That is your death.

Will you become the talented young lady I taught you to be? Will your mind be as sharp as I imagine, and will you find him? Does he exist, even? This is my inquiry; I now demand my answer. Since I surrendered to your portrait, I've become insensitive and absent. As long as I knew you would be there, I could hide wherever I wanted.

If I could ask you and receive your vivid response, I would - will I ever be you? Shall my person ever give the outstanding impression that you now give? Will I persist in my own memory? Will I forget myself? Will I last?

But no one will ever know your story but me. I created you, and I want you to become real. But not now, you are not needed at the time. For the characters in my mind are not here - so you must not either. Will you remember me, dear self? My time is here, yours is away. Do not turn away - I still need you! My time is filled with your sentiments, plans and achievements. Do not wander off, I beg!

And now, to conclude, I ask you this: will you still be me, so that you can hear what I am saying?