as i stared in the mirror while shaving my head my mind wandered to you, as it has become prone to do in moments of quiet reflection, in the mirror reflection of another world where things might have been successful

the last thing you said was that it was the last time you would ever speak to me, after going on about how great your new relationship with an old flame was

even in farewell you cut with that razor blade of a tongue

the razor against my scalp, your words against my heart, shaky hands and distant stares

i wonder what i could have done differently

your every wish being my command was not it, always you first did not do it

i know it was my not being enough

but why the lies after you left, why did you play the victim when you always were treated as the queen

i can never understand no matter the hours spent trying

since you left i made myself better, physically

and no shortage of torture, emotionally

or hatred, mentally

crisis, existantially

a series of dates that led no where, whether because i couldn’t invest, they couldn’t digest, or because of factors beyond all control

twice you stole into my mind as i lay next to another, as i lied to another, as my mind betrayed me, my tongue twisting their name into yours

to my horror, my terror, my only weapon against my own throat, my words taken and twisted, my thoughts not my own, my mind broken, my heart drawn and quartered

shattered like a crystalline imitation of a diamond, zirconium, the original taken and not returned

i hate you for breaking our family into bits

harbor anger, rage, viscious thoughts

except in the mirror, not in my dreams, not in the corners of my mind where the broom cannot reach, cannot sweep you away

it has reached the point where i gave up, stopped pursuing joy, going out, trying at anything but existence, or the shade of it

shut myself off from the world until it got to the point where i cannot face the outside

cannot face the face in the mirror, razor shaking against my skull and as i think of you

wishing the secret formula to making you happy, making you less the spiteful creature you became, the dream you have become, the love we never truly shared

they say love comes when you least expect it, i hope the same is true of happiness as they are both things given up

along with hope

i want to blame it on the drink, the drugs, the things i do not imbibe

the sober reality so much worse than the drunken version

the lack of excuses, the lack of meaning, the lack of understanding

all the things i lack

all i have are the dreams i cannot stand, the mirror reflection of a failed attempt at being human

the smooth scalp and stubbled cheeks

the face of one who cannot face the face he sees

hates the face he sees

hates the dreams he lives as he lives a life he cannot help but hate

vicious circular living that isn’t living at all