Mirror

I want to bleed until the warmth dissipates,
Watch and see if these hairs can break through the clotting mess,
So I can slick them back to my arms,
To pretend that beastman in the mirror isn't me,
Then wipe away the stain to find myself
Shivering before me.
Eyes follow themselves too accurately for relief
Never staring into both simultaneously,
Just wondering from one to the other
Across a cartilage bridge which wets without rust,
Until they settle to stare into a single black hole
Contemplating what feelings exist within,
Noticing only a void of forsaken vision,
As if I could look past my own reflection
And see anything but another wall
In the midst of dented arms.
One thick wrinkle above a lowered brow
Which never flattens out
Seems fitting for a scar,
Yet somehow worthy of more disdain
From a face carved by experience.
These lips have cracked before they purse
For such textured skin may only wilt
And no whistle escapes tortured lungs
With such little breath to spare,
I blow smoke towards the mirror
And disappear within my delusion,
As the lighter heats in my hand.