Finger Print Mirror.

The young man in the mirror is one I do not recognize. His sagging belly and nappy hair fills my stomach with rage and dissapointment. I was once a boy with a slick jaw and shining eyes. Now I smack my ashy flabby cheeks and try to blink away the veins in my crusty eyes. The young man in the mirror is one that I can no longer look at, so I rush out the bathroom door to lay my stomach on the bed. As I do, I stare at my phone until my muscles and bones beg for movement. Until then, I watch as Time rudely walks away, as kid's my age enjoy the night and day.