poetry

The Mirror


I look into the mirror, but it’s not myself that I see.

There’s a monster across from me.

The make-up is smudged from all the tears –

I don’t recognize who is before me.

 

I scream at the reflection,

But it’s smile keeps teasing me.

I am lost under its charm,

I let the darkness creep in too soon.

 

I am mesmerized by its spell.

I reach out and touch cold glass

But the coldness only warms my heart.

I’m drowning in a bowl of confusion.

 

The truth is revealed; I am who I am.

Dark love.

Dark truth.

Dark nothing.

 

The mirror’s reflection has a sweet laugh.

The image moves forward, so close.

It whispers gently into my ear;

“You can’t run from yourself.”

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