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by Locust
Rated: 13+ · Poetry · Dark · #1770948
A disturbed man takes a look in the mirror; what does he see?
As I sat in my bathroom and looked in my mirror,
Something appeared behind my eyes that wasn't once here;
A little more blank, my pupils were.
As if they were gazing into the distance,
My eyeballs peered.

I exchange expressions
With this man in the mirror.
It was no longer me
But a monster I feared.
I lock expressions with this monster
and take note of it's complextion,
Then I take a step forward and spit in the face of my reflection.

Fist to glass,
That man in the mirror deserved a beat ass.
He falls to the earth
In a now shattered mass.
One hundred monsters now stared up at me.
With obsidian discs replacing their eyes,
Each one of them laughed.

I leave and return,
Pistol in hand,
And look down at the broken mirror and curse this wretched man.
Reaching the end of my quest, one last breath fills my chest,
There's a bang and a flash; must I describe the rest?

Ten thousand monsters in the mirror
And each one of them laughed,
Each a little harder than the last.


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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1770948-The-Man-in-the-Mirror