The earliest mirrors were pools
of still water. It only changed
when people started to get superstitious
about drinking their own reflections.
Every morning, it’s just my face
looking back at me. Nobody told me
that I glow in the dark. Nobody told me
that I’d still keep getting the mail
for the last three people that lived
in this house, forever. I never even bothered
to change the locks when I moved in,
and guess what? Nothing happened.
No bump in the night. No spooky television
screen showing only static at three a.m.
Just me and the furniture.
Kitchen to couch to bathroom to bed
every night. Lather / rinse / repeat.
On Saturdays, I go grocery shopping.
On Sundays, I vacuum, scrub the tub.
It’s been like this for a while now.
It’s subtle, but I can tell it’s happening.
Things are spiraling into control.