He hated his reflection

From his too-long nose

And wonky eyesight

With such fear

He used to close his eyes

To stop looking at it.

He hated his reflection

And the way he had grown up

Hating everybody

Walking home from School

Then College

And eventually, work.

 

He hated his reflection

Clinging to the memory

of what went before

as if his mouth had opened in his vision

no less far from where he had started,

failing to realise

in between the margins

he had

until it was almost

too late.