Empty Temples

All these people seem the same

They hug, they flatter and they kiss,

Say how much you’ve been missed

But I don’t think they’re real

I don’t think they can feel

Accepting accolades is their game

They host charities and claim to care

But they are full of hot air

Their eyes see in, not out

They know not what life is about

Empty Temples

Empty Temples

Tear your soul

Empty Temples

Empty Temples

Never feel whole

Mitchell Plumlee ( c ) 2015

Haunted

In a dream last night, I stood watching myself as a child, when I was three or four. My mother, grandmother and sister were there, too, but they could not see me. They were all encouraging me, or rather, taunting me to say or do some sort of act that they thought cute; but, the younger-me had grown weary of being on the spotlight and was visibly aggravated. I tried to encourage my younger-self. I did not speak aloud, but I knew my younger-self understood.

But now, upon waking, I'm not sure I understand. Something in their actions haunt me.