in the grip of a narcissistic crisis deep within the forest, I searched for a still puddle of water. I held my breath entirely, just so that when I exhaled onto it, it would ripple and blur my reflection. I walked until my face turned purple, and by the time I reached the water, my fingers, my chest and my ankles were aching.
a wounded deer was looking around, sure there were no bear traps nearby. but whose were the sharp teeth that clamped down on its leg?
behind trees with simple shapes, a creature bound to a mirror slept deeply — the longer it slept, the deeper it sank into the earth. when I stepped on a dry twig, it flinched and simply took the shape of a tree. I couldn’t see it anymore, but I could still smell its fur.
June, 2025 by Demon Ego