Look up, I force my gaze up
I face that unwanted reflection
The hated man, the other half
Still addicted, Dependent on ****
The realization hits again
That I and Him, The same man
Night and Day difference
Pros and Cons I weigh
His motivation beats me to it
It is a sickness and I am sick
Of it of not wanting only to want again
Of being unable to manage
Everyday tasks and hobbies I loved
Creativity seems to visit
When it’s the good ****…
Again, That man before me now
******* this ******* mirror
He knows how badly I hate him,
He feels no where near the same
Content with his poison
But I can see it in his eyes,
He knows that it isn’t right
Will he help me quit this time?