Screams met by silence because
Of course they only echo
Within my own consciousness
Reverberating off the
Edges of images past
Blurred, greyed and coloured by
Wishful thinking, hindsight tinted
By hopes, dreams, desires
Ugly truths smudged and blackened
Shrunk, worn thin and shredded
To tatters, to shards, to dust
I walk amongst strangers, deaf
To the cacophony that
Vibrates crystal clear against
My eardrums, blind before the
Images singed into my
Pupils replaying before me
When every piece of my soul
Is stripped to the bone and forced
To grow new, raw, vulnerable
The reality of my
Ugliness stares back at me
A squeamish uncomfortable
Truth indeed, shrouded in shame
And self pity of what
I do not want to say I was,
Of all of those wretched things
I do not want to say I did
Of all of those sinful thoughts
I do not want to speak out loud
Of hateful spiteful words
I do not want to have uttered
Although some mirrors can lie
Other reflections bare all
That you do not want seen
Some skeletons refuse to
Remain buried no matter
How deep you push them down
They will claw back up, one
Rickety digit at a time
A reminder that the truth
Lurks close beneath the surface
Of our psyche, we can never
Forget our inner darkness
In this you are alone
For if the others saw it
Who would love your shame?
Scribblemarks 
Well composed and very well written piece Mira. Perhaps a little dark. Reminds me a little of a poem called Interruptions I wrote in the 70s in a similar dark mood.
Dark poetry is the my favourite poetry. Different style of writing for you but I really enjoyed it – honest, raw emotion that leaves the reader wondering. Nicely done 🙂