You are me in time’s sullen bow. I hate that I may become the things I loathe about you, for it seems uncontrollable. You’re naturally my counterpart, and yet you avoid me as if I am nothing. I am not reading too far into this. You keep me at a distance because you cannot face yourself. I tried to be empathetic. I tried to be cruel. I tried to be morose, susceptive, and gentle. Nothing. You ignored me like I was anyone else you could touch so fondly. It hurts. I need my mirror. I need my mirror. I can’t see my face.