There's a mirror in the bedroom
in it stands a dying girl
fading now, her skin transparent
pale beneath her crimson curls.

Standing there beneath her heartbreak
weighted down by the love of man,
enchanted by her slowing heartbeat,
love lies bleeding in her hand.

Deep inside she holds a secret,
words that form a heavy cross
with brittle spine it's weight she carries
fearing judgement, feeling lost.

There's a mirror in the bedroom
at my broken self I stare
shaking now, I'll start erasing
till I am no longer there.