Broken Mirrors


That girl people see walking down the hallway in school. Do they know that she is me and I am her? Crazy it might seem to some that she is a part of me. That crazy and loud girl who somehow manages to get staright As in all her classes. The one who holds silent screams within her.

It seems almost interesting to me that some people have the ability to conceal parts of themselves from society, to maintain this good image people have of them. A Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde. Intertwined. Both determined to have a life of their own yet failing to realize they can not inhale without the other dying to exhale.

Get up in the morning, get ready, school, home, homework, eat, shower, and bed. All over again the next day.

Exterior: Happy, go lucky girl. She seems a bit odd to some. She talks to herself, and laughs at jokes that aren't funny. Straight A's and  cusses at inappropiate times and makes people laugh. 

Interior: She cries herself to sleep sometimes. She hates her father and wishes death upon him for all the situations he put her through. She wishes she had  better looking teeth. Dreams of mental asylums, graves, and light. Dreams of knives, blood shed, and beautiful bones. Most people might think this girl is crazy. She isn't. She is rational in her ways.

Funny people always seem to say that they can look deeper into someone but when given the opportunity they always waste it.

On a daily basis I look into the mirror and wonder who is that girl staring back at me. Why does she look so confused? She and I are one, yet she always seems to have the better half of the deal. Stuck in the mirror world never having to see this side of the world. The one with dirt, hate, murder, and ugliness.

I wonder what her soul needs and how she sees me. Does she seek the same as I do? To shed our exteriors and live as free souls. Light and darkness. There is not one without the other. sewn together so well. Souls dying to break through that mirror. 


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