He knows my name

(Shallow breathing, a single, slow piano note) Whispers in the wall… they know my name… The face in the mirror blinks a second late I feel a coldness settle in its wake A presence in the corner of the room That blooms in the silence, in the gathering gloom My own reflection wears a stranger’s smile And lingers for a little while Something’s in the house, beneath the bed A waking thought inside my head It breathes the air I leave behind A perfect copy, left unkind It doesn’t knock, it doesn’t call It’s in the mirror on the wall My coffee’s cold before I take a sip A frozen burning on my fingertip The photographs are ever so slightly changed The angles of the faces rearranged And every shadow stretches just too far To where the normal endings are Something’s in the house, beneath the bed A waking thought inside my head It breathes the air I leave behind A perfect copy, left unkind It doesn’t knock, it doesn’t call It’s in the mirror on the wall The door you locked is open now A sweat-damp curl upon my brow It learned to walk, it learned to stand With my own face and my own hand There is no monster, sharp and tall… It’s simply me, after all. Something’s in the house, beneath the bed It is the thought inside my head It breathes the air I leave behind A perfect copy, now defined It doesn’t need to knock or call I AM the mirror on the wall (Whispered, close to the microphone) I blink… and it stays still. I smile… and it never will.