Untitled (Mirror)

I see a mirror and I do not understand, 
But I must be careful with that.
The worst path ends in a labyrinth
And from there, the turn you take next
Is all the same. You see yourself,
A version murky and sinister,
Holding a rusted dagger 
And upon seeing you,
It thrusts it deep within its stomach
And again and again
And with each stabbing motion
You feel your own stomach contort,
Twist, and bleed. You scream in pain,
But you’ve gone mad, it’s all imagined,
But the pain feels entirely real
And so you are entirely embroiled in this act
Of self-torture. Do not take that path.
Do not confuse the facts. 
Do not peer deeply into the Why.
It serves you no purpose.
That version of you is long dead. 
The better path is the turn before the labyrinthine path.
Take a glimpse of the Why,
But nothing more.
Let those versions of you rot away
And serve the better path,
The one that comes next,
And eventually you realize you are back
Staring at yourself in the mirror
Only this time,
You understand.