Mirror

mirror
i tire of your face
it is not me
it is an endless abyss
a vortex of assumptions
suddenly the weight of my beard
bears heavy on me – the hair is tentacles
coiling around me
every dust particle on my face is a disco light
man, I really need to take a shower

why am i dressed in the clothes of a prisoner?
why do i need another me into a world that
can barely handle me in the first place?

mirror
i tire of your face
it is not me
yet why do its grappling fingers
on my throat stink of the same flesh?
the reaper is behind me
i can see the shadow of the baton
of the social police

wait, that was just the selfie stick.

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One thought on “Mirror

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