All eyes but my own – A poem

escapril day 28: reflection

a rusted reflection,
speckled and smudged

to wipe away is only
to smear the picture

a sun-bright ghost
in a hazy window

obscured by the dusty
remnants of raindrops

a rippled counterpart
still for barely a second

before distorted by just
a subtle flutter of wind

layers of glass
whether cracked or clean

or pools or puddles are
hardly a perfect depiction

isn’t searching for glimpses
in every shiny surface

just searching for answers
to how the world sees me?

yet I’m only met with echos
and a mere sketch of myself

I could paint a better portrait
if I forgot my worries

about the perspective
of all eyes but my own