My image, my mirror, who are you now if you’re not me, I still see traces of who I was floating in your empty eyes, I still feel where you once laid inside who I was, my own emptiness, my own self abandonment, a mirror, a image, see the instrument of my downfall before me, see the reflection in the mirror of who I am, middle finger standing at attention, a grenade buried inside me, a grenade call me!
where the impossible seems three shorts steps to the left, and one giant leap into insanity…
