What I am

Looking into myself I finally see,
the reason for the rage dying to get free,
for inside exists a demon,
an evil which is me.

All that I fight against,
everything I despise,
is what I truly am.

I pretend to be,
what I wish was me,
but it’s time I admit,
that I am what I hate,
and I hate what I am.

Each person I meet,
believes me to be a different person,
I am undeserving of what I have,
yet still I demand more.
the person that others believe me to be,
is who I wish I was.

smashing mirrors,
and a life full of denial,
will only last so long,
for soon enough,
just like my mirrors,
I’m also destined to shatter and fall,
becoming nothing but tiny pieces,
lying broken and alone on my floor.