In The Mirror

 

I saw the boy in the mirror,
behind the man in wolves clothing
hiding in plain sight.

The devil cloaked in melodramatic costumes draped over his true nature like simple innuendos lightening the stench.

My glass is half empty
The heart in drunken stupor begging for drops of poison from his lips.

The signs ever present in the moments ignored for desperation of finding something that's missing.

Arrogance in the air, allowing a dance be had with the devil tipping his hat, in the boy in the mirror,
that never became the man.

Trauma poured upon trauma faking healing wounds, the night shedding the soul of every part of you.