the need for mirrors

i saw him,
an accumulation
of failures,
staring at me
from across the room.

his face twisted
in bitter snarl
of self mocking

an expression
i knew too well

the ugly bastard
smiled,
knowingly,
guessing at
my thoughts

correctly,
judging by the
coldness
in his grin

i turned away
unable to look
at the blank
reflection
any longer
sickened at the
sight of
an unknown nothing
pretending
to be real.

wondering at
the need for
mirrors
when the true
ugliness
lies just below
the surface.

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