Jaded

Every time I take a look in the mirror my reflection comes back jaded; my features distorted to the point that I can barely recognize myself. My hair is disheveled, like my thoughts unable to be tamed and going out of control. My eyes are no longer lit with fire and zeal but contain a dull flame just waiting to burn out. My nose no longer smells the scent of wondrous fragrances but is overwhelmed by the stench of death and deception which permeate the air around me. My lips are dry like the words that die on my tongue, thoughts unspoken but desperately needing to be expressed. My heart is no longer whole, beating for others but is fragmented, struggling in vain to put itself back together without all the pieces. My belly is no longer jittery with the excitement of new love but is tight, nauseated from the strain of dealing with lies and betrayal. My legs are no longer powerful enough to run to the aid of those in need but are losing their ability to carry my own personal load plus the burdens of others, which through my own fault I attempted to carry. As I continue to look in the mirror, one solitary tear glides down my face… not a tear of joy and hope but of frustration, knowing that like my reflection, I am jaded and will be until I have faded from this existence.