Poison

She grins when I use my body the opposite way.

A slave to the reflection I watch hate me back.

Am I just like everyone else on the pages?

I try to empty myself.

Misery is tempting.

Misery is delicious.

I have to purge the misery at times.

I can't take the way she looks back at me.

She guilts me into rejecting the fill back out of me.

She's glad I could steel pleasure.

It poisons me when I consume.

But the emptiness is more deadly than the poison.