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Mirror Creeps Mood
Thursday, May 1, 2008 | A Poem/Artistic story
The people I enjoy most are dead.
This explains why I successfully live
To look at the man I see staring back
Whenever a mirror creeps into view
On occasion when it slips my memory that
My confidence is always higher in the dark
Or simply cannot help but sneak a glimpse.

Nowadays masochism is totally chic;
As is the fact that I needn’t accept blame
For doing the devilish things devils do.
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