splendor 》poetry

𝕗𝕣𝕚𝕖𝕟𝕕 𝕠𝕣 𝕗𝕠𝕖

I stand in front of the mirror everyday,
But what's really there I do not see.
Like I'm painting a picture on a lifeless canvas frayed,
Like I'm looking into a deep sea, oblique.

I look into my eyes—dilated pupils shock me.
This skin is mine—a statement so thrilling.
My irises entrap me, hold me, and lock me.
My lips twitch unknowingly, a moment filling.

Where have I been and where did this past year go?
I don't recognize this face, these freckles, this chin,
These eyes, these lips, these ears, this nose.
It's me—it's me! The room starts to spin.

The bathroom light flickers and the wall behind fades.
It's just me and me—a staring contest parallel.
Imposter! Imposter! Someone get the blade.
Cut open the mask and see what insides it compels.

A creature, a fraud, a maelstrom of diagnoses.
Peel away the layers, for this mirror is not me.
I've had my fair share of dealings and crises.
But never have I been met with a stranger in the vanity.

Friend or foe? That is the question.
Regard myself with hand steady on the trigger.
A trip, a dream, a deadly drug's ingestion.
My pupils constrict, then swarm bigger and bigger.