Reality Slaps Hard

It doesn't hurt but rather it only annoys me
The junk and trash and smack and slander you sling
While your pride burns into your grasp on reality
That you've been bested, you've been burned,
Your image in the mirror is distorting, a carnival reflection
And the walls you clammer and stab to find stability
Turn out to be vaporous and phantasmagorical
And fake...
Which riles your blood and paints your cheek red with shame
And coats you in foolishness in the black hours
Of self-reflection when you should be sleeping

Because you rise in the morning mean as an alley-cat,
And with blood-thirst, and sadistic tendencies,
And retribution coating your gnashing teeth
That can only be brushed away and dismissed
When I'm gone, dead, disappeared, perhaps dismembered...
But are you going to kill the world? Will you delete the
slip ups, the ooops, the disassociation, the removed attention,
the less-than-perfect-you that you blame me for causing,
From their minds, or my dead dreams or memories,
Or transcendental penitence?
Forgive yourself, Grow, or Understand you weren't
The distortion your ego whispered you were in your colluding vanity.
You are better, you are more: Find who you are
And leave who I am to me.