I look in the mirror at a distant reflection
and from the glass, Nothing looks back at me
“Remember the days you used to be free?
Remember the days before you knew me?”
A fist curls, replacing where my hand used to be.
Lifting up, I thrust it at Nothing
Glass flies, threatening and glaring until Nothing is no more
With the illusion shattered, I can finally be me.
The Daily Post response: Glaring