what made me most afraid was not that the man looked like a monster, but that behind his mask, there was a human being, vaguely similar to me. it always seemed like he was kneeling. being haunted over by an overprotective mother. only pretty sure, that he couldn't take anymore. repulsion begets compulsion, vestal virgins carry strap-ons and masters of psychological warfare don't need to show their faces.
though we were strangers from your inner world, you forced yourself through the makeshift bloodshaft for any pretty face to beg you pretty please. picture my face in your hands, and you will see the freakish simplicity with which i fake my smiles. and you will smile too, by reflex. it is an architecture of plastic. a domain for shapes. imhabited by only reflections.
i can be anyone you please.
i am the new face of the machine.
the genuflection that ebbs into you dreams.
so don't you cry.
in the moisture of midnight,
i come to an end.
when you look in the mirror,
it is my eyes that stare back
i've been given so many names
that i've forgotten what i call myself
do not believe that you are ever alone
in shadows, in darkness, in the deepest pit
there are voices, like echoes
in search of mouths
to make their own.
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