no hiding from the mirror,
you said, and I began to fear
for just a moment something that you said
could turn out to be true.
For right before me stood my past,
my ghost, each careless error that would last
up through my last dying breath
and for many more years too.
There's that scar I got, I caught
each branch as I fell down, I thought
I had lost that in the innards of
time, whom I'd evaded.
And here's that tooth that I got chipped
when I placed that rock between my lips
and bit down as hard as I could.
Hard work to keep that faded.
Prisoner of the past, it seems I'd
forgotten how I've been controlled, lied
to by those puppet masters, tricked,
tricked into invincibility.
But now before that damned mirror,
that cursed fortuneteller, that wretched prophet,
here before the mirror it's all laid out, and
those slits across my throat look all too real.