Monday 12/10/2007 01:38:00 AM

Santa Claus, she asked, Why did you bring me this?

He wasn't there of course. Because you never see the man who leaves those kinda gifts.

She stared at her new face in the blank TV screen. Tentatively touching at her cheeks to determine it was actually herself she was seeing.

This isn't what I wanted.

I'm not someone else, I just look that way.

Something answered. No jolly man. Nor obese, red-suited angel. Just a voice in her ears that seemed to come from everywhere. The loudest of whispers. You've always been someone else. It's up to you to become her.

This is what you asked for whether or not you actually want it. You're just sad that you've finally gotten it.

You're beautiful the voice said. She looked and she was. You're beautiful when you look in the mirror it echoed. You can see this. Why does anyone else need to?

It's what you asked for. You never specified who should see it.

1 comments:
Anonymous said...

your a liar..and once again..a horrible excuse for a poet..and it shows..dont go ranting and raving just because you couldnt answer yes or no. i know its you.



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