Ghost in the Mirror

Drab black curtains hung 'round

Depthless windows peering in to 

An empty soul.


Too pale skin is the background

For sunken eyes and light pink lips

That sit smile-less.


She is frail and disappointing

But more beautiful than "healthy"

Ever could be. 


She is sick and frightening,

But she keeps me company 

On long nights. 


Danger and enticement lurk

Just beyond the dull black curtains,

I'm in deep.


Day by day she fakes away

Taking with her my furture.

Am I done?


This poem is about: 


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