The Mirror 

Shoots it's rainbow daggers throughout the hall.

 It is three in the afternoon

 And I am faced

 With the mirror.

 It blocks the path. Knowing

 Taunting with my own face

 It's slippery endless features mock me

 But it cannot know.

 The Mirror

Reflects a woman

Her face pale

Her hair long, blonde, soft waves

But her eyes are

Empty, blue rings of a lake

The water also reflects

An endless photo

Thousands of lakes, all exactly the same

Living in the Mirror.

My eyes

Are lost to me

Black pits of endless

Nothing

Threatening to swallow me whole.

The Mirror

Laughs at my emptiness

It knows there is and will be nothing more of that

Woman

Than a pretty face with

Empty eyes.

Painting by Delaroche