First created March 9th, 2024.
Last edited March 9th, 2024.
haze and delirium.
rise from placation and idleness as a mythical beast would from eternal slumber.
you are staring at a reflection of something you once recognized.
it stares back, content in its own delusions.
you can barely see its face in the corners of your vision.
was it you?
is it not?
the thing that considers itself "you" cannot decide.
in "your" hand rests a pair of interlocked blades.
too blunt to pierce, just sharp enough to slice.
in "your" other hand is a piece of what lies in the mirror.
it is material.
it is a work of art.
it is worth nothing.
it is everything to it.
it is a culmination of what it has experienced.
a relic of months long-passed.
cold and hot and cold again.
you rest one blade against it.
it feels nothing.
its weight presses lightly against the dull surface.
"you" clench your hand.
it stares back as "you" do this.
the blades cannot cut through it as readily.
"you" apply more force.
the blades struggle against it.
"you" apply more force.
it is staring deeply into "you" now.
"you" apply more force.
then.
snip.
you feel nothing.
you see yourself in the mirror.
you see yourself.
you see.
postscript: this was originally a piece I had shared in a friend's Discord server that I never actually made a backup of.