Stranger

Stranger, Stranger! The stranger Stranger in the mirror is looking stranger! How strange. The endless mystery is becoming sickening. Who is this man I know as myself? There are instances I’m certain I know just what I am. But these moments are always short-lived and followed by more confusion. I constantly become distracted by the next broken heart walking past me craving a new start. I put their pieces back together, and they do the same for mine. Then it’s time. Time to return the pieces to their rightful place with a heart-breaking shatter. Then we wander on to find the next person to repeat the cycle. It makes me wonder if we secretly crave the heartache. Maybe what we really crave isn’t happily ever after, but the cycle. I want to walk to the edge of the earth and scream the names of my past lovers until I have no voice left. I’ll shout until it hurts more than their absence. The broken hearts that fall apart never depart. They’re stuck on this Love ship destined for disaster. The stranger in the mirror only seemed as such when I was derailed by my first impending heartbreak. Little did I know that would set me off on a path I never felt like walking. This cycle of hurt and get hurt seems never ending. I’m beginning to feel more and more like a little less than nothing. When I look into the mirror there is something there. That can’t possibly be me. The person in the mirror exists. The person in the mirror is alive. The person in the mirror can be seen. But me? I’m fairly certain being nothing means I don’t exist. It feels like I don't...I’ve been dead for years and the only time I feel alive is when I suck it out of the lively women I’m drawn to. I’m an invisible leech sucking the lovesick blood of foolish women too naive to tell the difference between lust and love. I’m an emotional black hole sucking the light of love out of the starry eyed girls I fall for. Every so often I get a taste of blood so sweet I can’t let go...I try to latch on before it’s too late. But it’s always the ones I want most who quickly pull the lighter and watch me burn. They see me for the parasite I am and rip me from their haunting flesh. The man in the mirror doesn’t look like a leech...he can’t be me. He looks far too normal, at least from a distance. The closer I walk the more I notice the rampant chaos pouring from my eyes. I feel like that chaos is what I truly look like. It’s my true form. I’m not a body covered by skin, but a shapeless mass of bitterness and sadness. Stranger, Stranger! You’re in danger! Your heart’s gone black and filled with anger! Send me a prayer, for I won’t repent. My cancerous heart’s become malevolent.