You want me gone. I oblige.
Do not comment on my unkempt appearance.
I no longer shave. I hardly eat.
Imagine me a ghost.
I sleep a lot to enter after dark dream realm.
I return to wake as those creatures return from winter.
As I exercise breathing, I endeavor transparency.
Glass you can see through, one side as through the other.
Once I had two faces;
one opaque, the other reflective.
Once I was a mirror.
I am no longer that.
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