After spitting a slurry of peppermint blood down the sink hole I raise my head, catching his gaze staring back at me.

He judges me every morning, looking  at me with remorseful, pitying eyes.

He knows my sins, he judges me for all my mistakes and mocks me for my weaknesses.

Some days I don't even see him there, eyes glaze over like the milky white of a tarnished vase, hiding stems in unattractive fashion as though the splendor of blooms could distract a wondering eye.

Most days he locks me there, with piercing, soul trapping guise. I linger longer, lamenting, longing to break free, but knowing ultimately I'll return every day, in every hotel room, every service station bathroom I visit as I journey to escape the man that I've become.

Worst of it all, I've seen his flaws, seen them all laid bare, somehow, after all he is and all he could be, I can't bring myself to hate him, even if I'll never truly love him.