Mirror Image, Part 1,

1

I take a breath.

One deep breath.

And then I hold it for a brief second before letting the air slip back out from between my lips.

I open my eyes.

Light.

It hurts.

So my eyes are squeezed tightly shut once more.

My head whispers for me to go back to bed.

But I couldn’t.

Not until I looked into a mirror.

I needed to see my face.

I open my eyes once more.

The burning rays of sunlight razing the surface of my pale green retinas.

Ow.

My mind says to shut my eyes, to dive back under the covers, to sleep once more.

Fuck I am lazy.

I throw my mind aside.

Much like I always do.

And I slip out from underneath the warm embrace of my covers.

Only a black tank and pink short shorts adorned my fragile, slender frame.

Immediately the cold air attacks my bare arms and legs with pinpricks of freezing pain.

Quickly they go numb.

My determination refuses to be deterred.

I skip across the many articles of clothing and books and cd cases that litter the floor until I reach the large mirror hanging from the back of my bedroom door.

I wipe a few locks of my long, faded raven black hair out of my face and take a long look into the mirror upon my door.

I run a few slender fingers down my cheek.

A single tear chasing the fingertips.

“Who are you?” I say to my reflection.

She only shrugs and stays silent. 

2

The sound of shattering glass echoes throughout the house.

The many thousands of shards lay upon the ground like the most mosaic of puzzle pieces.

The bright sunlight reflected upon the many shards.

Blinding my eyes.

It hurt.

My hand was contorted into a tight fist.

And it was bleeding.

The knuckles profusely dripping a beautiful scarlet.

My breathing was ragged.

My face stained with tears.

I slump down to my knees.

I remain silent.

Silent.

Like my reflection.

My door flies open, revealing the distraught form of my mother.

Worry was painted across her thinly lined face.

She sidesteps the glass and falls to her knees.

Wrapping her arms around me, pulling me close and enveloping me in the safety of her embrace.

I break down.

My sobs are muffled into her shoulder.

Her gentle croons whispering into my ear, her tears mixing with mine.

A broken montage of a mother and her child.

“It’s going to be alright.”

Her words echoed dead in my ears.

Because it will never be alright.

Nothing will be alright ever again.

Never when one’s been broken such as I have.

3

I lay upon my freshly made bed.

Light still flooded in.

My eyes still hurt.

I was looking at my bandaged hand with an offhand curiosity.

My dad had cleaned up the glass.

My mom had calmed me down with tea.

The soft tunes of Three Days Grace echoed lightly throughout my room, emanating from the cd player next to my bed.

My cheeks had the faint trails of dried tears upon them.

I hugged myself and rolled to my side.

My hair draping over my face.

Blocking the light from touching my eyes.

They didn’t hurt anymore.

What day was it?

What month?

What year?

I can’t remember.

I didn’t want to remember anyway.

I close my eyes.

Deep breath in.

Ragged breath out.

I repeat the process over and over until I drift off into a light slumber.

Hoping that the few minutes of sleep will help me clear my head.

“Help me.”

Those words leave my mouth.

A single tear accompanies it.

Until I finally drift away into dreams.

Hopefully to finally understand the situation I was in.

But instead I’m greeted by a dreamless sleep.

And the minutes turned to hours.

Who, What, When, Where, Why?

Where does one go to find their way?
When all their hope has gone astray?
Where can one run with tear stained cheeks?
With pent up pain that's built for weeks?
I've stood here and wondered this.
Shooting arrows just to miss.
My room a cage I just can't take.
This smile on my face is fake.
Painted on with subtle care.
Just so folks won't stop and stare.
I feel so lost and sick and dead.
Over the things I went and said.
I've realized things I should have known.
I've seen the pain that I had sown.
And now I'm wandering this place.
A love that's gone without a trace.
Where do I go when life goes south?
When only hurt pours from my mouth?
What do I do to make things right?
I'm so far left I just can't fight.
To feel you in my arms again.
To say the words I write in pen.
To heal my heart beat black and blue.
A chance to mean it. I love you.

IMAGINARY,

I thought I'd escaped the gripping maw of this horrific ordeal...

I thought that by taking my leave from the situation that you'd simmer down and let your hatred die.

But no. I must yet again be the catalyst between you and your demons.

You promise me that it's done. The event has reached it's crescendo, the final curtain has fallen, the credits have thus played.

Yet one little remark from the bowels of my cock-sucking skull cave and it all begins again.

Twelve years of this complete and utter BULLSHIT was supposed to be enough. But no. The sequel WILL play. Albeit more lackluster and less entertaining than the original.

Times like these I wish I had stayed dead in your eyes.

But that bond developed between a child and her imaginary friend is eternal.

You could slit my wrists and rip out my fingernails and shove them in my eyes, and I'd still 'love' you.

It's a love hate relationship. You love me as you beat me. Hate me as you kiss me...

And I keep trailing the razored blade across my neck like liquid silver...

A masochist dance amongst the arms of a sadist. Oh how the feeling feels so good.

The taste of blood lukewarm on my lips, mesmerizing.

All the while you screw me to a rusted cross.

The feel of our sweaty skin heating between the friction of each other's touch.

It could be below zero and I'd STILL be burning for you.

Burning... to a pile of ash.

The way you used to show me how to bleed for you.

Making me smile from ear to ear.

"The bigger the mouth to suck this cock of mine my dear..."

Yet always you stayed silent. Until I didn't want you to talk.

The whispers,, the lies, the cries, the way you make eternity sound so good...

Enough to make this heart split in two.

A simple incision and my seams are splitting. I'm fading away into the back alleys of your minds.

Bruised, beaten, naked, alone.

A broken penny the perfect pen, to cut the truths into my flesh.

You watch from a few feet away, that depraved smile pasted across that wicked face of yours.

Eyes set upon it's prey.

I'm being devoured by the very nightmares I had sought to lock away so long ago. Their syringe teeth ripping away at my tender flesh. My skin tearing, my sinew ripping, my bones snapping, splintering, cracking beneath the assailing anger of a thousand evil men.

Each a personal demon that were born alongside the rotting fetus they fished out from inside of me.

Yet all you do is smile. And keep screaming that you'll never let me go.

"I'll never let you go..."

Why can't you go away? Why can't I stop believing in you? Why can't you be locked away like all the other nightmares inside of my head?

Why can't you die?

My mind is as broken as a shattered mirror. Each piece but a memory of you that you consistently stab into my lungs. Til all I breath is glass, the shattered memories of a broken love.

Another slit along my pale flesh. the blood seeming to flow from the wound like the water in a stream. Washing across my body, dying me a crimson red.

Almost as red as your eyes...

Like a toy with broken pieces, you can pick me up and put me back together, but that won't make me perfect again. I was broken once, you'll only break me again.

Imaginary. In my mind. Yet your touch is so real. So terrifying. Your fingers shocking my skin at the very touch, I want it. Something inside me wants it so.

Yet I just want it to stop.

Why must this never end? as a sequel turns into a trilogy, then a quadrilogy...

My screams the opening intro, the ravaging of my body the main event, and my choking sobs the final scene as the screen thus fades to black.

The promises of another entry to this series openly apparent and advertised.

Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why?

Why can't you die?

Why can't I die?

Why do they keep stealing these promises of freedom away from me?

Why do they keep giving me to you?

You're only my imagination... You're only my imagination... You're only my imagination...

Father.