face off with your alter ego and all odds are on you. the crowd is wild, frantic and salivating. they've got cash waving in the air for tokens to the show and i'm watching at the edge of my seat with a towel on my lap to wipe off your sweat, i'm the ringleader; i'm waiting around again with nothing to say but jesus boy, how do you get yourself into this? hand me a token, i'm waiting in line for the upcoming freakshow extravaganza starring you and me, a box office hit.

fading into the mirror, your glare dims in the heavy bathroom steam, your fingers trace scars newly added to the collection carved into your angular face. i tore through your multicolored mask with bleeding nails and fury, tore through your facade and dismantled your shield so i'd know it was always you and not the image you'd project in self defense. you're naked without your mask now, fresh raw meat for starving prey.
i'm sorry. i guess you'd really want it now. i step in from behind and wrap my arms around you, startled by a shock of marble skin.
you laugh, of course you do, involuntarily when you're nervous. you say hey baby i know where you have all the birthmarks in your body.
i don't have any birthmarks.
flash a Cheschire Cat grin. exactly.

there's a car parked outside blaring hip hop from the speakers, there's a girl skipping rope and a boy with a razor behind an alley. there's gas leaking and leaving a puddle, highly flamable, don't drop the match whatever you do don't drop it. there's a mother screaming, screaming murder! murder! where are you?

you stick a Band Aid over my ailing heart, detailing the points of Nietzche's philosophy to me, and elaborating upon a glance of my puzzled face. the face. you stroke the blond fuzz newly growing out of my shaved head, kiss my forehead and self satisfied you leave. i had a thing for abusive, self mutilating skinheads before i met you. you were straddling under the guise of an artist and i was hooked to you forever, to your stories, to the toxic fumes emanating from your skin.
in the morning you creep up the stairs like a rodent, easy catch for the ultra sensitive vulture.
you reek of her.
say nothing, shed your clothes.
where the hell have you been while i've been tormenting my head with ten million mixed signs and listening to the same stupid track, making myself believe i'm living it and nothing surrounding us is fucking real?
pause. stare at me. you're insane.
you bastard! your dishonesty reeks of rotten eggs and garbage and you...
i watch you walk out again, leaving me hugging my knees, the crisp white sheets drenched in tears. i watch you through bleary eyes against the graffitied walls of our bedroom, this cage, a burning hatred welling up in my throat to unleash another bomb. i watch you stroll back in, a bouquet of wet blood red roses in your hand that you set slowly by the edge of the bed.
i can't do this anymore. you sigh, of course you do, i'm surprised you're not laughing.
don't give me that...
i watch you watch me, your face indecipherable and i wonder, how could i love you? or maybe i just don't know the difference.