A grave of identities waiting in purgatory passed on the torch for someone new to carry the story Looking back at the past it glares back at me I gaze in the mirror and I cannot unsee He who once was, preconceptualized Socially under audit, caged but not ranged I can't believe I'd ever bought it

But there he is standing right in front of me A familiar, but disparate entity Trapped like wax stuck in their unwavering connotations Dead ends, withering vines frozen in stagnation Petrified, depersonalized, staring back, but lacking eyes

Calloused unfeeling, out of sync with the way the world was breathing Always being told it was wrong for trusting its feelings Scared to be bold and lacking its footing Like an ape before uttering its first annunciation

So when it peers back looking in the mirror glass I stiffen aghast stuck in those once trodden tracks at what I've once seen but since forgotten I'll stuff it back down deep in its closet coffin Lest it ever rears its ugly head, or should I hear it's ugly name be said

Perhaps it's all just a guffawing collusion I can't kill what has died because I'm truly a fusion Not reborn but reforged Smelted in a transmuting flame Drawing on our healing pain Built anew atop an ugly frame Or maybe the ugliness was like an ore's suffocating gangue Shining bright once chipped and burned away Moved, melting itself violently into motion Bettered, unfettered from its shackling bedrock ocean

In any case I wanna punch his stupid fucking face Say goodbye, let it leave no trace Gloat about how I was always right, bearing down with our all might Revenge on everyone who ever tried to dissuade Force my hand back across the mirror surface Treating the real me like a phase to be erased Sealed and filed, returned to their worthless empty embrace

Maybe one day I'll learn to love it all Or at the very least to reconcile Stare fondly at the dusty candid frames on the walls Even if the puzzle pieces still lay jumbled in a pile