Till I met you
I used to duel
with scores of
shadow men.

I dropped the
dripping wax
that burnt me
from within
the skin
of the mirror.

Night after night
I would watch
the monster
grow and grow
and wonder if
I could find a way
to end it.

Several times I tried
to ride that final ride,
to slide the sharper side
of my rusted knife
in my enemy’s thighs
or across his wrists
as he clenched his fists,
willing him to bleed out

But he would still follow me
and in the night I could see
reflections of this darker being
staring right back at me
with eyes as black
as whatever was on
the other side of the glass.

He spoke like me,
broke like me,
and even scavenged
petal free stems
with thorns
that ripped my skin.
Until you my friend
on whom I now depend
to keep me tethered
to my tattered sanity,
who helps me laugh
at my darker past,
came at last.

But if my past
ever comes back
and I have to see,
that face of hate
that haunted me
I hope you are there
waiting with me
cause a mirror
is a very dangerous thing.