the reflection that never ends, back and forth until we’re nauseated or crazed, pupils dilated, reality refracted and fragmented,
all meaning lost.
before the cover came off I was unaware, alone, before the cover came off I was me without you.
the joining of my world and the backward one you always lived in beyond the glass made it seem, for a time, that everything had multiplied,
but now I see the truth.
what are you but the things I was never brave enough to be?
what are you but the parts of me I despise conveniently placed outside of me to be destroyed?
and what am I? what twisted refraction of the sum of your parts came together to make me?
it’ll never be whole like it is now, ready to be examined.
one slip and the pieces will fall to the floor, the mystery lost.
I always did love a puzzle.