there is a mirror
in my head
and it
is not quite like yours

the mental mirror
hold threads of distorted truths
and made up of
complicated lies


but yet,
the mirror
is my confidant;
my everything

it is my raging war;
i am its revolutionary
it is my calm
before the unceasing storm


it was once a lie
it will always be a lie
made of lies
and always lies
no matter the endless cries
the mounting angst
will it ever go away?
no.

i sit at the wretched mirror
wondering the possibility
of a someday
where smiles
will truly be smiles
and laughs
will be utter expressions of joy
i sit thinking about the
the slight notion
of a time
without locked
foreshadows
of lies

i wish to be free
like the girl
inside of me
does too

if only this could be true.

i look at the mirror
a thing which i called home
asking all these unnecessary questions;
and i ask
and ponder

i touch the mirror
and close my eyes
i see a little girl
she smiles

her smile is so perfect
so angelic
like the creases of its corners
felt like the pages of a book

her lips part to say the words
"i love you"
(b.d.s.)