Mirror Complex


Mirrored in my glass eyes

My tired gaze betrays the lies.

But, words have all failed me;

My seams are coming undone.

And in tired agitation,

I let my cold blood run.

Every scratch and every scar

Is a painful reminder

That I'm simply not on par

With what everyone expects.

But it isn't as though

These glass eyes reflect

All the hurt and all the pain—

All that is driving me

Slowly insane.


The scars are my secrets;

The pain is my own.

Such is my mindset

Long carved in stone.

I aim not to alter,

There is nothing to change.

And though my heart

May skip a few beats,

These feelings will not falter:

Depression is serious;

Cutting is not a game.

And while I know this well,

I make this quite plain:

Though the pain

Can be unbearable, and

Though it hurts so much,

I simply cannot stop;

When by those very standards,

I define myself as such.

The cuts remind me

That I am still a human,

And that I make mistakes.

It's just that sometimes blood

Dripping down my wrists

Is just what it takes

To remind me

That I am still alive;

Still a living, breathing being.

Although, to be honest,

I've lived so long without really seeing

My surroundings

And circumstances.

So long that I've decided

I will take my chances

With mortality.

I live or die, either way

Someone will win, the other lose.

Nothing at all left to choose:

Just one misstep,

Just one wrong choice,

And I will be left forever

Without a voice.

I know this however,

Very well,

So I choose not to dwell

On it because we're all mortal,

And we all die someday…

Just some of us closer

Than others

To the present day.


L. Kantenseter