In the corner of my room
stood a mirror
that had witnessed
our countless hideous crimes.

Even now,
I can still smell
your scent
lingering on the bedsheet.

I can still hear
your gasps
sitting in the air
like tiny atoms

composing my flesh
which had grown so
accustomed to the warmth
of your skin.

In front of the mirror
I stood
and the last thing I remember
is the tempting sneer

on the razor's edge.