From Me to You

You can't block me out.

You've always known I'm here, hovering just at the edge of your awareness.

My whispers drip into your ears, like acid sliding along your nerves.

The anger I cause in you writhes just under your skin, barely contained and ready to explode. This gives me a dark enjoyment, I want to see you burst with the rage I enflame to flare brightly and sizzle into nothing.

Because that's what you are: Nothing. A gaping void of emptiness.

That's why you hate mirrors, isn't it? They enhance all your imperfections and slap them back in your face. All the failures; the missed opportunities, glaring at you from the eyes of the past.

You know what they say about hindsight. Such clarity!

I can see the build up of pressure in you, even if you pretend I'm not here and paste that pleasant look back on your face. The one that fragments and falls apart every other moment; it's stiff and awkward with all the tape you've layered on it. Nothing can make it look natural again.

Your smooth skin, the freshness of youth, that energy you used to have. They're gone! Stripped away completely.

I took it all.

For every time you promised yourself 'next time', for all those 'I don't REALLY need it'; I become stronger. You hate me, but we both know I'm here to stay.

I AM you, after all.

The you that's not afraid to voice your opinions. I'm bold and crass, brave and invincible.

I'm everything you wish you could be but aren't able to embrace. All your hopes and dreams, banished into the darkest depths of your mind for storage until your frequent moments of weakness. Those times you want to wallow in misery and lovingly pull out each bright ribbon for examination. The shiny little fantasies you hoped would one day be your reality.

I'm all that will remain when you've decomposed into those most basic elements.

Ashes to ashes, fool.