The face of transition.

Take note that when i look at you
all I see are broken dreams,
tattered remnants of the hell you put me through,
with split ends and open seams.

Your bitterness has left you deformed,
I get sick just being in your presence,
like all the self-pity within me is reborn
along with everything else unpleasant.

What happened to who you hoped to be?
I dont believe you were always this impaired;
I get nauseous knowing that you're close to me,
thinking of the past we shared.

In fact, I think you're the devil
envelopping all around you in tragedy,
my hatred has never reached this level;
I wonder what relationship you ever had with me.

It disgusts me for us to occupy the same space
and I would heave if you got any nearer;
Oh! how I've come to truly despise your face
yet I can't look away from this mirror.


*So, a little dose of self deprecation. In truth, this heat made me feel really crappy and it distorted my reflection in the mirror summoning the memory of one of my favourite passages that i found when i googled "the saddest poem in the world.":

"I, Lais,
dedicate this mirror to Aphrodite.
For it will not show me as I was,
and I will not look upon myself as I am."
-Plato.