Ego as a function of hostility is a U curve

Motherfucker this, motherfucker that, and the distorted static around mirrors that only stops being so grainy once you fixate the eyes.

In all the pictures of the body you live in, awkwardness transpires and the world buzzes around your ears as you desperately stare in disgust.

Choking words you tell yourself asphyxiate your brain and maggots further decay it when you fight them clinging onto a good image.

A subtle change in attitude isn't hopelessness.

A meaner and meaner instance of yourself stab your heart and colour you a deeper red until an ego bleeds out of it finally.

Taming you only hurts, you whisper "kill yourself" to your reflection once in a while to rise as an obnoxious glowing failure.

You repossess your own body and accept to call yourself trash - hot trash - and what was killing you a second ago is now a repurposed identity.