Hidden Hatred in my Reflection

Bruises and cuts walk up my body,
Hatred and anger fills my mind.

The mirror shines back at me what I never want to see,
this me,
I don't want to be.

It's not enough.
It's just not enough.

Though the cuts have become scars,
and the bruises have healed,
The destructive tendencies still linger.

I escape the harm of my ways,
only to resort to others.

The flick brings ash to the ground, 
and the burn says there's none left.

The avoidance of the dinner table,
and the hatred of my reflection.
I want a good life,
I want it.

Yet, here I go again,
slipping away from healthy ways.

I'm sick of the reflection. 
I'm sick of it.

I know I shouldn't be insecure,
I guess I just don't know how to be secure.

So another day will go by,
Smoking that last drag,
and skipping that last meal.

I just wish I could lose the hatred that stares back at me in my reflection.