Lost in a hall of mirrors: inside the mind of a narcissist

Hall of Mirrors–“Tor,” funded by the Pentagon

When you’re safely in your house
you look out of clear windows that show you the great outdoors
and solid doors that open so you can step outside and take in the sun and rain

…I have no such amenities
for I don’t know where to look
Are they even there at all?
Everything is a reflection of a reflection of a reflection of a…

ad infinitum.

I live in a very strange house.

I see shadowy, spectral images of people who look much like myself
who are they really?
Are they ghosts of what I could have been
or want I want to be?
Or are they showing me what I have become?

Where can I escape from this nightmare of myself?
I feel lost and afraid
I just keep trudging around in circles like I’m caught in some endless mental time loop

I can’t close my eyes against the horror
for this is my reality looking inside myself
Eternal torment that will never let me rest.

Installation of Via Negativa II by Lee Bul, New York City, NY

Wandering aimlessly around in circles
in the shattered labyrinth of my broken mind
like walking through a plane crash
or ancient crumbling ruins
these broken shards of glass are glued to every surface
twinkling from some unseen silvery light
piercing the inky blackness that swallow up everything real
each jagged shard reflects broken pieces of me
on and on and on into an infinity of insanity

I feel like screaming.

There’s really nothing there at all
Reflections have no substance
Maybe this is hell and I’ve already died and gone there
doomed to wander forever alone in this glittering hall of mirrors that mocks me at every turn
thousands of mirrored facets laughing and taunting as I move down the halls

I know the way out is here somewhere
After all I built this mirrored prison with my own hands
Long ago I built a door
but I have forgotten how to find it
The mirrors obscure reality and memory.
But I remember I built it and someday I will find it.
I will.


11 thoughts on “Lost in a hall of mirrors: inside the mind of a narcissist

  1. After reading this, I feel like I’m in the middle of an isolated street with old Victorian Houses along it….on my way to a dead end. And although I KNOW I’m gonna meet up with a dead end, it seems like I can’t stop myself from walking. Like as though my legs are bewitched by some impalpable force. This poem is so impactful. I love it

    Liked by 1 person

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