Broken mirror or Broken man?

"Who the hell are you?" He questions the mirror, an object, like a mad man. "You, the thing, in the mirror, poltergeist of the bathroom. You've been haunting me for fourteen years. You're the ghostly veil that has been restraining me Smoking my mirrors and choking me!" The man cries out to no-one but himself. His "wrong" self I suppose. For when people see him, he believes they do not truly see him. Strange, I know. "When I catch glimpses of you, at home, in this room Looking right back at me from beyond that silver chrome I feel dissapointed, conflicted, tormented. I never wanted this!I want you gone!" And how will you accomplish that? Rip of your skin? It doesn't matter how many layers of dermis you cut chunks out of and slice at You'll never reach whatever you've deluded yourself into thinking is within "When people see me..." He continues to rant to air. "They don't see me there, they see you. You're my reality. unfortunately, painfully And all of this is in my head, isn't it? Fiction Escapism from you you, you, you! Why did I have to be you! Why was I born this way?" That is a question this man asks himself often. But there is no answer that will satisfy him. Hence, he continues to cut his skin.