How can you just stand there
bear the weight of your own meaning
and not falling bleeding beside me,
on the floor?
How can you stand there
bearing the guilt of a thousand sins
and I grovel here on my knees
begging for forgiveness, redemption,
relief
for the few startling things I have screamed?
How can you stand there
When you are the real part of me?
Not this reflection,
which at you, at me
begs and holds onto
in attempt to preserve.
How in the hell are you so sure?
You are me, and yet you suffer nor
how is this
when...
I am nothing but the soulless reflection with nothing to regret
