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The mirror shines an echo of reality a thousand times blurrier than I see. The white lies praise closure, toxic autobiography, as wax eyes glaze over, magnetic abnormality. Painted mouth, a harsh sculpted shape. Torn plastic hair, a blocked-off escape. Between the fluorescence and the silver reply the fruits of my labour or a sordid fruit fly? The scars on my shoulders, the spots on my face; saturated colours polluting the lace. Rouge tinted balm, a turned sickly ochre, My elbows together, shoulders narrower, triangular figure; carved by an egoist, all angles and fissures. The moisturiser refuses to sink into my skin, a tantaliser of trial, on the surface, a swim. Impenetrable, inaccessible, my hands rip the surface. A false doll face with a fast fading purpose.
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Jan 31, 2025
Jan 31, 2025 at 5:21 PM UTC
My Bathroom Mirror
The mirror shines an echo of reality a thousand times blurrier than I see. The white lies praise closure, toxic autobiography, as wax eyes glaze over, magnetic abnormality. Painted mouth, a harsh sculpted shape. Torn plastic hair, a blocked-off escape. Between the fluorescence and the silver reply the fruits of my labour or a sordid fruit fly? The scars on my shoulders, the spots on my face; saturated colours polluting the lace. Rouge tinted balm, a turned sickly ochre, My elbows together, shoulders narrower, triangular figure; carved by an egoist, all angles and fissures. The moisturiser refuses to sink into my skin, a tantaliser of trial, on the surface, a swim. Impenetrable, inaccessible, my hands rip the surface. A false doll face with a fast fading purpose.
annashanley
Written by
18/F/Scotland
Jan 31, 2025
Jan 31, 2025 at 5:21 PM UTC
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