Narcissus Poeticus

Ava Bruni

And only find your reflection in the words?

You’ve never been more than it, What you see on paper, pen in hand. Your words are beauty, Ink spread on paper, Like roots in soil.

Echoes in the wind

Curse your foolishness, Repeating back the words

You’ve grown so fond of, Rearranging, Begging you to hear them in a different way. You spend hours alone, Sculpting the words you’ve already written, The words you will always write Again and again and again.

You try to get it right.

You try to get it right.

You try to get it right. Every stroke, Every space.

It has to be perfect. It has to be perfect. It has to be perfect. But all you manage to find is you.

Everything you are

Condensed into one poem.

There’s nothing you love more Than the shallow pools

You see yourself in.

So you write and write and write. Again and again and again.

Stuck on the riverbed

Until the words are perfect. And you think you could love what you see, But it’s not perfect.

You know it’s not perfect. And it has to be perfect.

But it will never be perfect. And it will never love you back.

Author’s Note: This is mirroring the story of Narcissus. In Greek Mythology, Narcissus was cursed to fall in love with his reflection if he ever saw it. One day, he sees it in a shallow pool of water and is so enchanted by his own beauty he stares into his reflection for the rest of his life. When he dies, he turns into a flower, called Narcissus Poeticus (or Poet’s Narcissism).