Broken Mirrors and The Shards Left Behind


A stream of red lies on the ground,

with the sound of my heart pound, pound, pounding.

I want you to hear it, but shards are in your ears, 

the scratching against the walls sound like your worst fears.

Mirror, Mirror on the wall,

why does that person in the mirror resemble a doll?

With puckered, stone lips and glossy glassed eyes,

why does it look like it just died?


I need it to listen, I need it to yell,

I need it to breathe, I want it to see hell,

where the flames of the deep abyss

lick the bodies of people trapped in chains by the ankles and wrists.

Its staring at me, why does it do that??

I shattered it with my fist to stop the gaze

but the shards fall to the floor, 

and so do I.





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