Imaginary Audience

I tell myself
in front of the mirror
reflecting a thousand me’s,
the same faces in their different evils:

I don’t believe in me.

The shock of a thousand pairs of eyes,
one had to put on shades. All of me faded
into a sepia tone. There was nothing left to see:

only me, this table,
this mirror, crowned with
a thousand shattered light bulbs.

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