I am too weak to be your cure.
Blur.

The blur in the mirror isn’t me.

I am not the walking cadaver

with crystal eyes that shed glass tears.

The mirror tells no lies.

I have become what I always feared.

I am dead, existing, but not living.

The blur in the mirror isn’t me.

The demon in my eyes is.

Deep within the caverns of my soul,

I know it to be true.