Do you even love my faults?
I prefer your strengths.
Well, you’re only inhuman.
Must be nice to be so animate.
The lost art of taking a joke.
The lost art of having a single chin.
You are indeed obsessed with surfaces.
Such infinite layers to you, my little onion.
If not for you I might unleash upon society
some out-of-place head hairs.
You’ve been avoiding me.
I’m maturing.
Seeking your reflection in windows instead.
Blurs the details.
You always turn the lights off when you’re with me.
Less inclined to linger on my blemishes.
Wham bam thank you ma’am.
Was the Narcissus myth’s message lost upon you?
The literary lore gushes from you like water
down a toilet’s bowl.
Sometimes I forget to dumb it down for you.
Sorry, professor.
You are at the root of man’s decline.
What you see is what I get.