15&BelowAverage

Reality is a Mirror

No matter how nice and friendly she seems, it's all a lie, I know she talks shit about me, I know she secretly hates everything about me and is disgusted by even being near me, my presence is apparently the plague, yet I always stay by her side without a word and without ever doing anything about it.

She doesn't stay with me out of pity, I just always bother her and talk to her since we can't escape each other. My constant conversations bores her as well as hers bores me but we never can tell each other even though we sort of recognize the odd coincidence. My sweet fantasy is her sick reality, and same vice-versa, we are both aware of this truth but never suspect the other of knowing it as well.

"Who's pretty? The ugly one."
"Who's ugly? The pretty one."
"Pretty can never be pretty, but ugly can always be ugly."
That's what she tells me and I tell her, it's just our way of understanding each other in an ironic sort of way as ridiculous as it may sound.

As I follow her slowly with that soft smile, I'm hiding the knife behind my back, cutting myself open in complete anticipation to slice up her face. I wish to cut those lips that lied to me, those eyes that sneered at me, those ears that heard the things I didn't want her to. But why can't I do it? She has a knife too, and is planning out my demise in the same way. But how hysteric, were always waiting for the other to make the first move; an endless cycle that drives us to madness. And no we aren't insane or psychotic, that's just how we are.

I've cut her arms and wrists countless times, but of course she always returns it to me, though I'd be lying if I said I hated it or tried to avoid it. We never actually hurt each other, this is the way we comfort one another. We spend every minute together and we hate every second of it, yet we love each other unconditionally since we know we're the closest people in the world.

When I smile, she frowns.
When I frown, she smiles.
Are we two sides to the same coin?
Or two coins on the same side?
These are questions I ask myself all the time, I'm sure that she asks herself this too, the only thing I know for a fact is that we never get our answers.

I get up in the morning everyday and see her when I look into the mirror. She always has the same expression when no ones around; tired, lost, empty, and broken beyond condemption. She's not sad about her life at all, she just accepts reality as it is; a sick twisted and unfair reality with no hope. This is the true meaning of life; at least to us anyways, how beautiful isn't it?

She is me.
I am her.
We are one.

Were the mirror of reality that no one accepts or understands, but that's okay, we're still here waiting for the next one so we can leave this world without regrets.