Mirrors

Why is it –

That wherever I walk,

They walk with me?

The mirrors .

They capture every move,

Reflect every step.

They’re spiteful mirrors.

Don’t just show me what I look like:

They tell me.

Taunt at every angle,

Tease with every turn.

Spiteful.

But truthful?

I want to break them.

Shatter their glassy impressions.

A thousand pieces on the pavement.

Then – nothing.

What I really want to know is –

when will it end?

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