Have you ever hated the sight of your own reflection? It stares back at you, void. lifeless. Inadequate. Incomplete. It's almost pitiful really, to be completely and utterly trapped within the fragile realms of glass, it's very existence dependent on that of the observer. Should you expire, so will your reflection. I believe many, if not most of us, have looked into the mirror, and hated what we've seen. Our hatred for it burns powerful enough that it builds a desire to strike blunt force to the mirror, shattering our knuckles, and smashing it into a thousand pieces, casting the birth of millions reflections in return.
And yet...
You can never get rid of it. It's the only thing that validates our existence. No matter what we may see when we look inside a mirror, be it a scarring desire to be pretty, an incredible hunger to be skinny, a gluttonous need to be buff, or a guilty passion for innocence, what you see is what you get. You can try to alter it as much as you want. makeup, pills, lighting and cloth. It's all a sham. A pathetic, desperate attempt. At the end of the day, when the world has stopped turning and dark thoughts invade your head, all that matters, is what you think of yourself. How you perceive yourself to be. Until you learn to be comfortable in your own skin, until you learn to love yourself, that is when you'll learn to love your reflection.
But then again...
Things are never that simple.
So, as I stand here, my cold, dripping wet, naked body, exposed to the harsh fluorescent lighting of the bathroom, staring into the blurred mirror vandalized by teardrops of steam; I don't see a boy with a desperate desire to be accepted. I don't see a boy who doesn't think he's good enough. I don't see a boy questioning where he went wrong.
All I see is...
A boy with a murderous desire to be loved.
"And then it hits you
As your laying alone in bed in the
Middle of the night
That they aren't yours anymore
That you can't hold them anymore
That they aren't going to say
I love you to you anymore
Because they can't
That they aren't going to be around
When you are sad
Or be around when you have
Exciting news to share
That you can't kiss them anymore
But
You can love them
But that love only hurts
Because you know they can't love you
And maybe
They never did."
A:N:
A quick update. Small but important. Poem Credit goes to my amazingly talented and beautiful friend, Alyssa.
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The Edge of Paradise
Tajemnica / Thriller"My heart was racing. My eyesight was blurred as I ran desperately through the forest. The sound of heavy footsteps echoing as they pursued me. Mocking me with menacing chants. My body wanted to quit. My legs were turning into jello. Begging to be r...
