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A fear in the mirror game (A pt.4 in my study)

The fourth time revisiting my study and everything lay in wait.
A quick glance bounces from the mirror to knife now in debate.
My cold frail hands rest on the back of my antique chair.
A walk around than sitting tossing my top hat with no care.
A drink was poured, that old familiar smell, 99 proof tears.
A whisk of the pen tattering at my paper revealing my fears.

A fear of self aggression, the self inflicted pain.
And that fear of being different, almost insane.
That fear of knowing they're here now watching.
That fear of once again my breath stopping.
A fear of my bottomless drink and ink running dry.
And that fear knowing in my study is where I die.

The fourth time revisiting my study and everything lay in wait.
A quiet sigh of relief with a poured drink I ponder and isolate.
More scribbles of nonsense, “A ghosts flower” was written.
Inky scary faces stare relentlessly leaving me mentally bitten.
I know it’s there but I refuse to look at the broken reflection.
A gentle force guides my sights to the mirror promising protection.

That mirror broke at least fifty times.
Laughing with me helping with rhymes.
A sudden halt and a turn to anger.
Nervous now for my life is in danger.
Trying to look away, speaking poetry.
Mental illness once again playing with me.
miseryomy
Written by miseryomy
Published
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