The mirror stands tall and frightening, against a wall of torrid vehemence.
I stare at it and wonder if I should look.
Should I gaze into the abyss, or will the abyss stare into me?
If I look closely will I find myself or will the hole tear out my heart.
I look down and see that I am bleeding.
I try to stem the flow with my hands, but they tear at my flesh and my guts spill out.
I admire them, but cannot recognise the organs. They are not my own.
I am Frankenstein. I have become a monster of my own creation.
I am cobbled from the parts of those I love, of those I have loved, and those I have lost.
I search for something else, trying to find what I thought I had lost.
I now realise it is still within me, steadily beating and pumping life throughout my body.
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