Mirrors

In Nights Arms

It's been a long time now, since I have put my mind to writing anything at all.

Found myself browsing through quite a few peoples old stories on ficly one day and decided it was time to pick it up again.

So here i am, again. Hopefully soon I will have something to contribute, in the meantime it's great to see so many familiar people here.


I've stopped looking

At the mirrors in my house.

My wife has to tell me

When my hair is becoming

An awful tangled mess,

Or when my face looks

Like I've never held a razor

A single time in my life.

They just feel offensive,

Reminding me over and over

That I'm nowhere near

Who I want to be.

That I'm a little more broken,

A little more fragile

Than a man is supposed to be.


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  • Published 8 days ago.
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