I wish to become,
The man I’ve seen in the mirror.
Although, this reflection seems to walk about,
Walking nearer,
And then disappearing into thin air,
Like a wishful mirage,
As if it was never there.
I pause, waiting for my reflection to become clearer,
Glancing from the glass,
To the man standing in front of that mirror.
Once,
Twice,
Three times I look from the blurry reflection,
And back to myself in hopes of some kind of recollection,
Not knowing what to do,
I pause, and say “Who the hell are you?”
Without a response from him,
I quickly realize that,
I was him once,
But never again.