The things I'm told
I do not know
They once were clear
But now I question them with desperation
Is this real?
Is this truth?
Of course this is reality he says
Behold
This is truth
There's no being misled
Why would someone deceive you just to get ahead?
Or is it...
Just to get IN your head?
My mind is fine
I know to believe the things I've been told
No need to question what he's said
I go ahead and trust with conviction
I tell you no lies...
Brain squeaks a bit here
I'm filled with fear
Is that truth or am i mistaken?
Did that really happen?
I hear these words that now make no sense
These stories that don't add up
They just don't make sense
Are they jumbled in my mind?
Or is everything just fine?
Am I going crazy?
I'm not sure
Am I?

Mirror mirror
On the wall,
Who’s the most shattered
of them all?
Aligned with the cracked glass,
I feel broken.
Each scar of self-harm
Leads to a line of tokens—
Every scratch and crack in the mirror
Is a symbol of self hate
that plagues my heart.
Soon to fall apart
And rot in the mirror…

Mirror mirror
On the wall,
Who’s the most fallen of them all?
Hidden and forgotten
in the dust of cobwebs
In your attic.
I ask for help,
But aligned with the smashed glass,
I feel stolen and trapped
Under the illusion of no hope—
Bruised and abused.
Left in confusion,
Losing people like flies,
Leaving shattered moments
in pieces scattered across the floor,
Only then I feel heartbroken.

Mirror mirror
On the wall,
What have I done wrong
To become aligned with
This broken mirror?

Claim my burden but never

offer your shoulder

to confide, 

to cry,

But you have no tears to spare.

Trying to eat the slice of pie

I spent hours baking,

you spent seconds eating.

Those peaches were freshly picked!

Bathed in bicarb! 

I scrubbed the dirt

until it was nothing but

another piece of myself

for you to ******.

I do not swallow sweetness, 

I choke on copper,

throat bursting to the brim

with pennies-

the same pennies you offer

in penance 

for the burden of lead that

nooses my neck. 

You wear it by choice;

by Gold, 

by Glory,

believing our blood is the same drop split in two.

Though it is proven to be yours for the taking,

you will be tasked with breaking each 

frozen finger, 

forced to pry your prize from

my bruised palms.

I’m an ocean without any waves
A song without any sound
A book without any words
A car without any gas
I’m a shell of who I was
Who I want to be
Who I meant to be