I look

In the silver glass

I see

Someone

Something

Pathetic, ugly, stupid, vile

Myself

I feel

As I stare

Anger

Rage

Loathing and discust

As I look at

Myself

I pull my arm back

Ram my fist

Into the blatant looking glass

Pain in my hand

I ingore it

I see the repulsive face

Crack and shatter

Fall

Myself

I pick up a shard

Of the cruel teller of truth

It cuts my hand

I grip it tighter

The meaning of my torment

Will be my release from

Myself

I press it down

Dig it deep

Flames in my arms

Blood over the mirror

Covering the repugnance

Deeper I hack into

Myself

Sticky crimson blood

My blood

Flows like rivers

Over my hands and arms

As blood leaves

Blackness comes

I let it wash over

Myself

As the blackness

Creeps around me

I see

My red liquid life

Pool around me

A thick, tackly sea around

Myself

Warmth washes over

Though my wrists are ice-cold

My arms feel empty and weightless

While my body is heavy and pendulous

The world a pinpoint

As I give way

To sweet oblivion