Reflection

She sees her reflection,

as a soul waiting too die;

filled with an unlimited power to peruade,

which changed

the snow to ice;

the rain to hail;

all she can do is sit and watch,

as objects begin to collaspe.

Wanting to leave this aphrodisiac body,

not wanting to cause

suffering

for the one that walks on by.

Who is drawn into such a deception

full of insanity.

 

This reflection she sees

is not her,

but the beast inside.

A beast which she cannot control.

For the beast's heart beats over powers her own;

the beast's thoughts speak over her loud screaming voice;

the beast's control on the body takes over her control,

to where she can no longer run away.

But sit on the otherside of the mirror,

and cry for help.

She hides in the deep dark cornors

of her thoughts;

wanting to escape.

But the only freedom she gets

is when the beast falls asleep,

and she can roam freely around inside.

 

The reflection she sees,

in the mirror is just her.

She is locked in her own sanity,

full of thoughts,

and actions,

that she wishes she was able to control.

But everything inside

is not what it seems.

For her heart is not a heart,

but a timer;

her lungs do not contain air,

but contain poison;

her mind does not hold captive thoughts,

but a captive lighter.

So when she is ready

to disappear,

she can take all that she is

and only leave

rapture.

This reflection she sees,

is me.

 

 

 

 
 
 
Guide that inspired this poem: 

Comments

Additional Resources

Get AI Feedback on your poem

Interested in feedback on your poem? Try our AI Feedback tool.
 

 

If You Need Support

If you ever need help or support, we trust CrisisTextline.org for people dealing with depression. Text HOME to 741741