Mirror Mirror
.Mirror, mirror, on the wall, who’s the deadest of them all? I must have left my voice in the bloody bathtub I was so unfairly “rescued” from. ”You look thin,” they’ve said. Have I lost weight, or am I just becoming as fragile as glass? Everything I’ve learned about myself I heard only second hand My hands hurt from not being held. My heart aches from being walked on. My wings are sore from not being there. Heart is a lonely hunter, life is a lonely word. Written March 14th, 2002 © on Mar 14 2002 09:42 AM PST 18 • 0 • 1
AI analysis available. Enable JavaScript to interact.
About this line
".Mirror, mirror, on the wall,..."