Do mirrors lie?
I close my eyes and turn away
My reflection, a curse I can’t break
My hands bleed as I try to bend the glass in my favour

I see my face,
But it’s not mine
I’m watching from afar
As someone I don’t know
Obsesses over every flaw they find

If mirrors could talk, would they answer my questions?
Like why the skin on my bones doesn’t fit the way it’s supposed to?

Begging for answers
Smiles and Tears
The mirror doesn’t laugh at me
It draws me in with soft words and comforts
Then as I lay, it draws a knife.