The Reflection

I lie in bed every night beneath a mirror, talking to it's reflection.  Most of the time I talk to you.  I talk to so many really, imaginary or otherwise; but mostly I just talk to you.  We hold conversations that sometimes put me to sleep and some that keep me awake for hours.  Some are reruns of days past, most are of the future and deceive today.  Most often it is an amiable conversation yet some nights I drift off to sleep with tears in my eyes.  I hate it when you agree with my not wanting to be an obligation, even worse are those when you disagree.  For I look at that reflection, the one you are talking to in the mirror, the reflection is so unworthy.