Silverfish

The Mirror of Men

He had a certain air of invariability that fed his even disposition.

But underneath that perfectly framed glass is a fractured base; damaged beyond reconciliation.

I did not know this about you. I mean, I was given subtle indications but I was never made fully aware of what laid beyond the mirror you gave me.

I only saw myself, staring back at me with that same ambitious vigor I held myself so highly to. I saw what I wanted to be–what I could become.

The soft, fragile frame broke again, eventually. Perhaps because it was never really put back together like it should have been prior. You've seemed to have trapped yourself in this perpetuity of brokenness and brief resolution.

Don't you want a way out?

I have to keep telling myself that I am not that. At least, not for you.

I need to stop dreaming about what could have been, because it is all a lie to myself to keep me tarnished. I do not want to end up like you.

And it's impossible for me to–we are mirrored yes, but only at one angle.