I'm a narcissistic fool madly in love with the piece of myself that I remember you sinking into.
You asked to give me a piece of your soul,
and now I can't stop seeing it in my mirrors.
Our conversations wrapped in cobwebs
come falling over me as I look at you in my eyes.
Am I me?
Or am I you?
Or are we one?
For the fear of seeing you, I refuse to look myself in the eye.
Next thing I know, I'm neither of us.