"How ugly." I say, as I look into the mirror.
I look away in disgust.
Unsatisfied.
Unknowingly, I look back.
I see details.
I see everything on my face.
I start to pick and scratch at my face,
Ripping and tearing anything I can grab.
I look at my blood-stained fingers.
The blood drips.
I smell the stench.
Tears and blood mix.
I throw everything onto the floor.
Leaving trails of blood and shattered remains.
I look back into the mirror.
I force a fist through it.
Pieces fall to the ground.
Cracks flow through my face.
I am a broken mirror.
I have no more use.
No one wants me.
No one wants a shattered mirror.
Mirrors don't show the inside.
They show the ugly details on the outside.
Mirrors kill you.
You kill yourself.