How old was I when I first looked into the mirror and wasn't enough

How old will I be when my reflection replies I'm too much

I found something
I can not unsee it
I can not unhear it
Although I never really could see it could never really hear it
I thought it up once
I could not tell you if I wanted to—
It will not go away—

I see it behind every scene
Its presence mocks me
Makes absence of the wonders of the world
How could something be beautiful juxtaposed with such obscene, grotesque clarity?

I can hear it always between every word spoken
It frames them as they roll off the tongue
Encases the vibrations as they make their way through the empty space and into my skull
Forcing connections between defunct neurological pathways trying to understand something—
Anything—

It’s the place where my thoughts come from
The feeling that penetrates deep within me

It is not dark
It is not silent
It is not numb
It is not empty

It is inevitable

It reaches from behind me and pulls at my ribcage
It weighs on my shoulders and gnaws at the base of my skull

Some days, it is a rabbit
It whispers in my ear
You are big
Your bones are strong
Run
Make for green meadows
We are waiting for you there

Others it is a dragon
It whispers in my ear
You are small
Your flesh is weak
Run
Make for dark chasms
My fire will find you

Its breath burns my nostrils
Fills my lungs
Consumes my thought
I am rendered helpless by its sting

How could something be painful juxtaposed with something so calm

So blinding
So deafening

How could something be so dark
So silent
So numb
So empty

How could something be so

Permanent

As I stand,
Starring at my own reflection,
I peel back layers.
Layers of lies, deceit, manipulation;
Layers of empty promises and half hearted attempts.
Layers of misguided hope and hollow happiness,
Layers of shallow expectations.
What’s left is the ugly truth.  
A story of abuse
In which I am the victim
And the villain.

the greatest poem
lies in front of you
as an empty page

the greatest song
lies in your voice
as a pregnant silence

the greatest artwork
lies in your hands
as a latent talent

the greatest day
lies in your waking
as a potent dawn

the greatest life
lies in you
as a human being

I think, the answer is "maybe",
But I'm not sure,
I'd rather not rush.

This is a scary world with very scary people in it.
Just look in this mirror.

Have you ever liked someone so much you regret meeting them?