I don't like the mirror

I don't like what I see

Because the truth hurts

In all its subjectivity.

I don't like what I've become

I don't like to hate me

Or all my weaknesses

In their objectivity.

I don't like to know

I don't like to feel

Emptiness in my chest

Even subconsciously.

I don't like my reflection

I don't like to see

How I've become so tainted,

Not just aesthetically.