Mirror mirror on the wall,
Mirror mirror sees it all.
From tear drops to lip stains,
Reflection of beauty and self hate.

Helplessly, hung on the wall,
It reflects the exterior from a far.
Tries to reflect the truth from within,
The eyes sees only what is seen.

Months and years pass by,
The mirror tries to show whats inside.
No,not the mirror on the wall,
But the one within your soul.

It's not suicide that's on my mind 
It's ****** that sits behind my eyes 
That awaits to appear before my pupils 
That anticipates the visual through my lenses 
That contemplates the bare face without a mask 
Violence is on my mind 
But is it out of my grasp? 
As I sigh, it's testing for me to blink 
My eyes envision the scene 
Standing over the sink 
I'm standing there with myself 
Think...
About something else!!!
Rabbits 
Cabbage 
Sandwich 
Guns 
****! Where did that come from? 
I don't need help
I refuse, because I'm not confused 
I need to do this 
Momma always told me that wants are just taunts 
So I take her words and try to define and categorize my choice 
Credible: check 
Eligible: check 
Inevitable; yes, I have the perfect excuse despite the notion of being rightful 
Momma didn't counsel that etcetera 
So I don't even think of the sentencing 
The authorities aren't as preventing 
So they don't know what I'm thinking nor do they know what I'm doing 
Until it's done 
They might catch me because I will neglect to hide or run 

1st degree 
My 2nd attempt 
My 3rd resort 

In this case is my mind my best resource? 
If I recourse and explore my feelings 
I will still have a passion, maybe to do it in a more gruesome fashion 

A murderer's mind is like fish's eyes 
Restless 
Selfish 
(how so when the attention is steady on the potential victim? 
Although, but Is this really being considerate?)

I have plenty of lifeless bodies in my psychological attic 
One time I got this guy looking spiffy and brought him into the living room where I tried to sit him upright on the sofa 
It was a pain in the *** for my brain in the past 
I thought about his family more than of him, overall it effected my comfortability at home 
So often times I found myself in the basement 
Heart racing 
Quick movements and fast pacing 
Thought I was drawing attention 
For revenge to trace it 
So I tightly secured my spaces 
Kept two firearms adjacent 
I think about the things that I do 
Thats dreadful enough for comrades to contact taboo 
I hope retaliation was only nightmares and don't become déjà vu 
Because if that's the case then if I can remember the handle was still lodged into my waist 
As gas operates and bolts rotate from the Izhmash make 
Majority of the exploded cartridges run stray 
I run in between Subway and Chase 
Where I can take cover 
And aim my muzzle 
Before my corpse completely turn into rubble 
I was penetrated too well now to move with bustle
Then I suddenly remembered my mother 
...
I wanted to stay alive 
...
I couldn't cry because I seen this before 
Just from the other side 
But who cares? 
I just wish those men would look me in my eyes
As I would 
But they rather witness my demise from a distance 
*******!
...
Here I am 
Criminal minded 
Blinded 
From any 
Uummmm I don't know 
Natural state or thought 
But guess what? 
Guess who I'm studying while i'm placed in front of the mirror? 
Noooo I said guess 
...
You'll find out soon enough
...
(Shoulder shrug)
I guess

enog si egami niwt eurt

tsuj ro
..dneb eht dnuor




S T, 12 July 2913

Mirror Mirror
Tell me why
This reflection
Isn’t mine

I sit and wait on this date feeling emotions I hate.
Emotions of hate , so I back track and track back to the oceans I've made.
Relieved the motions of fate, notions of safe, so I throw back this potion of sage.
Self destruction coaxing with age. A little red button toting my name.
Poking my brain, can't think straight, believe I can't to this it came.
I sneeze and visualize my carpet with a blood stain.
Theirs no ***** in my eyes, I seize varmints but don't have Thud's aim.
I'm not playing a thugs game, but I see carnage, I'm not saying I claim sane
But I've slain Satan so many times I claim Saint. That red, I claim paint, That shame I frame fate.
I just want to go back to to where I came from in the first place,
But that gate is not in the same state.
The hand I have now is different, I don't got that same ace.
Its just not the same case,  From the back of my hand to outer space.
Its like, If you look into a mirror, Do you see your own face?

THAW SAW ECNO MORF EHT TNORF
WON  SDARWKCAB NI MY DNIM.
TAHW I  SAW ECNO WON SRETTEL
DESUFNOC EFOREB YM SEYE.
LLIW TAHT ESREVER EB
A EHCADAEH OT DAER
I KNIHT I YAM DEEN A RORRIM
NI MY SEYE OT  NRUT TI THGIR  DNUORA.
  OT NRUT THAW ENCO SDRAWKCAB IN ESREVER,
  I OPEN MY EYES TO SEE WHAT IS SEEN, NO
LONGER CONFUSION, AS WHAT WAS ONCE IN
ESREVER NOW CLEARLY SEEN.

I miss my parents more than I thought I would at 30.

That's not to say I forgive them, or want to speak to them, or want to actually see them.

Maybe I don't miss my parents, but I miss the thought of having parents at all. The safety and idealism of being able to fall back into someone's loving arms.

Except, what I experienced wasn't love at all..  wasn't familial bonds, wasn't safety, wasn't security, wasn't the basic needs of my childhood being fulfilled...

I often joke I was raised by a wolf pack. But only if that wolf pack was a lone wolf, myself, by myself always as leader of a pack.

I still hoard canned goods like the apocalypse might happen, like I might not have money, like I might have to throw a couple things in a pan and make it edible for three kids

I miss my parents, or what should have been parents but was instead a cold dark cave with nothing but the growls of hungry bellies.

I miss the wolves, oh wait, my parents, oh wait, when I look in the mirror I see her cheekbones and his eyebrows and I can't help but want to push my fist right through the glass.

The wolves, I mean black sheep, I mean parents that begot me always haunt my reflection, always come through in the worst ways as I reflect on my life, how do you reflect on this and feel gratitude?

I miss my parents, or the idea of having parents, I guess.

i want you to go home and
look in your mirror. | .rorrim       g
                                                    n
and i want you to                i
tell me what you see.       k
                                   n
                         i
all you're t h
right now,
is how you aren't perfect.

well perfection is a myth,
a tale,
a legend,
a story told to young girls & boys,
so that they keep coming home,
and looking in their mirrors. | .srorrim

I need a mirror that talks
So it can say it like it is
Then I’ll come as I am
and break down in tears

A universe is a big place
To hold within me
Got me puffin and huffing
emotions like a chimney

I hear the pills whisper
Come take a bite
We promise, oh we promise
To make you feel right