[Certain]

The arrogance soothes. Reflexive action, parroting gloom.
The usual clichés spill over into cynical, nefarious moods.
It's all revisionist. Counting seconds until hope shatters,
picking up the pieces with a crooked wire coat-hanger.
You've got that look again. The roll of the eyes
remotely controlling your latest disguise with the loneliest sighs.
It's getting cold. November. With a sickly pale blue cloaking the skies
that kind of reflects your attitude toward most other people.
We're smoking outside.
The Zippo glows in the gloaming, defining
the silhouette of you in the same place you always would hide.
Disposable lies told to a disposable crowd.
Eyes to the ground, shifty. Preferring when no one's around.
It's easier this way. Immersed in minutiae, evoking distortion.
Most people try not to leave themselves open to torment,
but you, your masochism has deep roots and trimmed stems,
so when you drowned your sorrows, they regrew with additional heads.
I'm speaking to you. All twitchy mannerisms with none of the etiquette
and a habit of talking out of the side of your mouth with stuttering emphasis.
We could have been somebody, but you couldn't stomach the sedatives.
Popped a Molly. You're sweating. Nervously searching the premises
for exits that don't exist. The tourniquet bends and twists,
but you're better off hung out to dry than immersed as a pessimist.
And that's the problem. Hitting pause, hoping but not assuming
that the world revolves around you because you're the only one not moving.
And there it is. The opposite of a pro is a con. Yes, it's true,
yet the opposite of progress is you.
It's seeming pointless. All of it. Pretending you're anointed
but never quite ending on a point, unsettled and disjointed
when everything would be better if you just shut up and enjoyed it
and embraced the fact that death is just a coin-flip.
Instead, you've settled for this narcissistic avatar
where you hardly can control your darkest passengers.
And though your vanity exposes your own dysfunction clearer,
maybe it's time you get away from that motherfucking mirror.