Staring into the mirror I see two, a man. A child
I see three...four...five...until its just the kid, the man long forgotten in the back of several reflections as they stare, each one holding a story thats truly distinct to themselves.
Each one in one state which the man hates,
Each one more infuriating to the man as he stares, as he lights another cigarette up to start another session to lecture about how the "woman in stasis" is a pathetic loser.
The kid is already back at one, singular again, staring at the reflection alone,
Wondering why everything has to be this way?
September 4, 2026 26
