I thought I knew myself.
I used to be a nice person.
Now when I see someone,
I think to myself,
“Did your mom dress you this morning?”
or “You’re a waste of oxygen.”
Then I let out a cackle,
as if insulting people is funny.

I need to escape
from my own reality.
I’m petrified to think.

Thoughts crawl into my mind,
then, without warning,
slip down to the tip of my tongue.

It’s not others I’m afraid of,
but me.

When I see my reflection,
I see black holes, deep in my eyes.
If you look too long,
they’ll suck you in,
captured for eternity.

Forever falling.