it's you
laying on the twin bed
arms folded over your stomach
humming along to music turned on in the background that i can't hear

it's you
in the car
driving slowly, arm splayed out the window
talking quietly, but i'm too focused on the moment and i miss the words you say

it's you
staring at the mirror
and hating what you see, glaring at your reflection
like there's something inside that repulses you and i can't help but wonder what you're muttering at the glass

it's you
inside the mirror this time
and i can't reach you
and i don't know why,
i can't hear you,
can barely see you

it's you
not that i can tell but i can
i mean
it's not me anymore that's for certain
that much i know - that's the only thing i know
it's me, on the ground, body crumpling onto the pavement in a circle of blood
splayed awkwardly and pale and lifeless

it's me this time