The Mirror
I start every day
with pain on my face,
from tossing and
turning for rest I must chase.
I walk to the sink
and it fills me with dread,
I can't bear to look
so I bow down my head.
I reach for my brush
and it runs thru my hair,
as I'm fighting
anger, confusion despair.
Anxiety grips me as
I start to shake,
my head fills with
wonder from every mistake.
My eyes feel so
glassy from tears I have cried,
these hands are so
shaky from numbness inside.
A tear starts to
form so I sniffle my nose,
my fist starts to
clench as I'm curling my toes.
I feel so damn tense
am I loosing my grip?
I just want to
scream as my thoughts take a trip.
A journey of madness
so deep in my mind,
of a life I once
lived that has left me behind.
I finally look up at the face that a see,
a vision, a shadow,
of who I should be.
This person, this
stranger this shell that I am,
a fragment of
someone that once gave a damn.
This battle Is real,
but it helps me see clearer,
when I see that
face, watching me in that mirror.
