Mirror...Mirror?

Mirror, Mirror,

What is this obsession with my reflection?

The woman I see, I’m sure that isn’t me,

Yet I reflect myself on this darkened grim image.

We are from different sides;
we come from different backgrounds,

We are not alike yet the image is almost picture perfect.

I feel like I’m in a fun house running away from the different images,

But she follows me like a puppy looking for sympathy.

Pulling at my leg and ripping through my tights.

I tell myself she isn’t there; it’s just an image yet its real and infecting my thoughts.

The hallways are narrowing down to the point where I need to squeeze through to the next room.

I fit through but I can’t breathe, my face is worsened in every frame.

What happened to the woman that once had her own name?

Mirror, Mirror,

I want to break this curse before it gets worse.

Shall I smash you into a million pieces?

Or cover up before I get infected with these diseases?

I cover you from every wall but it seems to do nothing at all.

You’re gone from in front of me, but your still inside of me.

I stop staring at the image but the cracks have begun to show.

Mirror on the wall, you really have to go.

The tightness on my chest and brain is weighing me down,

I want to run but there is no where I can turn to.

The door is at a short distance but I’m running on a treadmill and can’t reach the knob.

My hand reaches out but I trip and fall, as I look up there is another mirror there.

I pick up a rock and throw it as hard and high up in the air.

The mirror smashes and falls on top of me,

As the shards come crashing down I cover myself up like a cocoon so it won’t cut.

One has fallen close to my heart, it’s not lethal but it’s stuck like a dart.

I need time to heal my wound before it gets any deeper.

I won’t allow this mirror image make me feel weaker.

Mirror, Mirror,

Tomorrow I’m changing you for a big window,

So I can look out at the beautiful, yellow and green meadow.

I want to run free and not feel trapped.

I won’t compare myself to an image that isn’t really there.

Only I see what I want to perceive, but the disease has been spread and I feel worthless.

I will no longer live within this destructive mess.

I will stand up to the surrealism I feel and my image will change to the one I used to know.

Tomorrow or the next day will be the beginning to an everyday glow.