Memory Lane

I sit here in my room

Staring at myself in the mirror

With puffy eyes and red cheeks.

In the past twenty minutes I've given myself a monologue

About why I've been beating my mind over answering the door

In pyjamas and how I began to stutter when I talked.

It's not a big deal, really.

But images of my stupid self

Are embedded into my mind

And it seems like they won't evaporate.

So now I'm staring at myself in the mirror.

My wrist aches from constantly wiping my face dry

And these breathing exercises only last five seconds.

I begin to wonder why I'm being so harsh

On myself when these days I've been

So kind and calm

And it hits me that despite how hard I try

I'm always going to end up staring at my puffy eyes and red cheeks

In the mirror for the rest of my life.