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In The Mirror

a poem

By Luke GlaspyPublished 3 years ago 1 min read
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In The Mirror
Photo by Austrian National Library on Unsplash

He wants to take my life,

That thing behind the mirror,

He wants to take my place,

To have it all,

He wants my thoughts,

And he wants my face,

---

He wants my tattered shoes,

My chipped coffee mugs,

That stained chair,

Even my apartment,

With its black fucking mold,

---

He wants my memories,

Of childhood,

Of that first kiss,

And hide-and-go-seek at dusk,

---

He wants the hollow emptiness,

The night terrors,

The dreams of shooting meth,

---

He wants every broken thing,

In me,

---

He wants my junk mail,

My debt,

And the callus on my feet,

---

And when he holds it all,

In his stinking shriveled arms,

He will not treat it well,

There will be no place on a shelf,

And no one will come by to clean,

---

Instead, he tries it on,

And howls with empty eyes,

Drooling in mania,

---

He laughs,

and laughs,

and laughs,

---

How well the terror fits,

How sweet the loneliness,

It's all his,

And how quickly death forgets.

surreal poetry
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