4

when does
surviving become living?
writhing, shaking
the tears are hot and unwanted
what do they think of me?
dissecting my very being,
looking for whats wrong
and I
look into the mirror of my vanity
The girl I see, is wailing a horrible song
she's prettier than you, she proudly proclaims
for even she is sure of her own name
I shatter the glass, it scattering everywhere
blood dripping into my hair
and she's still THERE.
multiplied on each shard
she's cackling at my pathetic attempt
I don't know how much longer I can do this
clawing at my skin
no matter how hard I scratch it never comes off
The girl in the mirror,
encourages this feat,
The tears create
the same unwanted heat