Mirror, mirror, on the wall. You always know what’s best. Of course, what’s best is always what I’m doing. Am I not the one who I see in you every day? Do you not copy my actions every single time? If you know what’s right, and I’m what’s right, what’s wrong with being as egocentric as everyone says I am?
After all, it’s not like I’m denying it. It’s a fair and honest thing people say about me, and I believe it. You know why? Because people like me. People imitate me. Sure, half the crowd seems to hate me like I’m some sort of twisted monster in their eyes.
I’m a standard person, like anyone else. Was it not the airplane safety video that said, “Secure your own mask before you help anyone else?” I’m not the only person who has ever put themselves first. I’m only different because I admit it. I admit that I’m my favorite singer, that I’m my favorite dancer, and I’m the most amazing person that anyone knows.
My friends seem to agree. They wouldn’t be my friends if they didn’t want to be like me. If they didn’t want to change, they wouldn’t meet anyone else. They met me, so they must have wanted a way to change, and the way they chose to do so, was me.
I don’t care if people don’t like me. Be it my mom, my step-dad, my teachers, my childhood friends, my neighbors, or anyone else who decides they don’t like me. They’re just jealous. Yeah. Definitely. They know they have no hope in their life to be my friend, because I’m too awesome. They can’t hear me over how awesome I am, so they want to stay away from me so they can hear their own friends.
And no matter why they don’t like me, it doesn’t matter. It’s their problem, not mine. They don’t wanna be my friend, so they’ll be the ones missing out. Sure, they might change me, but I like myself the way I am right now. I like being in the grade I’m in, with the friends I have, with the rebellion I’m a part of, with the risks I’ll tackle, with the music I listen to, with the nightmares I have, and if it turns out what I’m with isn’t what makes me good, I’ll drop it.
I love my life, I love it so much.
I love my life, I love it a bunch
I love my life, I don’t care why
I love my life, I’ve never been shy
I love my life, I win every day
I love my life, I have no shame
I love my life, I have no time
I love my life, it’s oh so fine
I love my life, no matter what risks
I love my life, and all its laughs and kicks
So, mirror, my old truthful friend, why today do you choose to show me what I don’t want. Why do you show me that I changed and I died. I thought I was safe in the little spot I had in time, and you moved on and ruined it all. I don’t want to change, and I didn’t know I changed. You told me abruptly, and way too late.
Why do you have to show me my unborn child
Why do you have to show me my dirty hair and clothes
Why do you have to show me what I don’t want to see
You used to be cool, mirror. You’re not any more. You just like to rain on my parade, piss me off, and show me what I could’ve been happier not seeing. You don’t have a right to live. You showed me my most treasured thing was some fucking diamond ring. And even that will be sold to pay my rent this month. I’m glad it cuts you, because when you cut, you have no blood.
You have no blood because you’re not real, and I need to know that. Otherwise, like you see, I won’t know what I’ve become, and I’d die if I never knew. I’m not happy, but your doing your job to make people see what they hate.
I cut you bad, and in my anger, I cut you again. You’re not copying me anymore; you’re copying a version of me that’s covered in bloodless cuts. You need to have blood to be real, and you have no blood. You’re just a reflection, no different than what I see in pond water, except you’re covered in cuts, not waves.
You showed me how much I hate who I am. You show me that I was something else before. When I look in you, I see what I am at that moment. I gradually changed into that from something I wanted to be. Fuck you mirror, I didn’t want help until now. I need it, and I would’ve needed it anyways. I want it now because of you, and I’m on my knees crying because of you. You’re making me shed the tears that I need to shed, and only a soulless douche bag like you could help me shed them.
So thank you, mirror, for being the soulless douche bag I need.
