Hall Of Mirrors

I stand alone,
yet I am surrounded
by the crowd, their black
bowlers on display out
into the vast infinity
of the space around me,
while I stand in the center
of the hall of mirrors,

unseen, unheard, invisible.

Individualism has ceased within the glass.

All move impulsively,
unconscious clones
of myself,

wandering as I wander,
following as I follow,
searching as I search,

the angles of the mirrors
distorting reality, giving
the illusion of movement.

They are puppets controlled
by echoes of my thoughts, their
synchronicity creepy in a way
I’m not prepared to think about.

But am I just a figment of my imagination?

Do I exist? Do they exist?

Relentless in their pursuit,
they stalk me as I investigate
the corners of the circle,
my thoughts echoing,
in time with the beats
of my heart.

The edges of the room close
in as I search for a way out.

A black void creeps into
my peripheral, threatening
to close me into myself,
inside my thoughts, erasing
my conscious self.

I crawl through a window
and make my escape.