Words to a Mirror

Will u or won’t u be clearer

I can not see what u depicting

I don’t like the picture u pitching

u picked it..go figure

the pixels are blemished

and it all resembles a mess, I’m a mess

a mosaic of massacres

cracks in the glass make me look like a masochist

and u draw the line

but at this line of scrimmage

I’m tackled for loss

then forget my description

a critic,

that doesn’t like critics

I know-hypocritical

confronting myself, all I hear is crickets

and ribbits…

I hate this exhibit

this hate I exhibit

is because I’m livid

from living with friction

and fiction

and feminine differences

distance

and friendships

I’ve lost, that fall to resistance

my vision gets crippled

I crack up and peer in the ripples

my sweat starts to dribble

then trickle then cycle- ice cycles

reflection gets frigid

I fidget

I feel like I’m fucked up, fuck it, I’m finished

forget it

forget this

too much weight that I bear, I am not fit for forgiveness

my wrongs are like scriptures I’ve written

I’m hungry, I eat whats forbidden

so pride ends up bitten

all I feel is tension

defensive

good riddens

don’t mention

my limits

I hate that u witnessed-

this look! that looked like I swallowed a handful of lemons

and crumbles when talking with women

I’m downing a bottle of Guinness

I drown when I’m swimming

just give me a minute…

I know I don’t make any sense

like proof with out evidence, I mean ever since

I looked right in the mirror, my senses dispensed

I’m numb, what I’m saying-

I needed to vent

put my hand on the mirror but there are no prints

so now I’m convinced

that I am not real, and I’m never content

therefore loving myself will take longer than this

words to the mirror..