thelookingmirror
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A girl stands directly in front of me.
Her eyes follow mine as she begins to smile.
I desire to know more.
I look closer and see the pain that she keeps hidden.
Her soul consists of emptiness.
This disease is stealing you away from everybody you care about
inability to disclose
you need help but you can't accept it
too proud to take anybody's hand
or to admit defeat
and then with poetic justice
Mirror, o' mirror
Clung upon my wall.
Reveal unto me Life
Or, blessed Death shall befall!
A Frankenstein of thought
Molded by the Divine.
A Mad hatters’ noxious creation,
