Too many panes

The warped version of you,
The one you hid away from all,
The mirror with many layers,
Looking at yourself.

Dried tear on your cheek,
Hollow eyes rimmed in red,
Clenched fists loosened,
All the grind has left.

What you thought yourself to be,
Gone piece by piece by post,
You gave your all to the void,
And a star returned the reward.

Self-made in a broken mind,
Neglected more the truth,
Unmade the morning bed,
Each day chasing eternal night.

Keeping check on many tabs,
A thousand dripping streams,
Squared eyes on digital prize,
Empty the shelf of life.

Staring through a hundred panes,
Searching for what is real,
Soulless through a million poses,
Each the same as the last.

Reality comes knocking,
A stranger to forewarn,
From what has been spent,
Will never be returned.

All the shine of the fool,
Plastic smile worn away,
In its place a bitter moon,
And what you have become.