The mirror lies.
This fact is as cold and hard
as the pane of glass separating
me from my own reflection.
I watch myself breathe;
watch myself grow older,
each second making the lines
beneath my eyes stretch further down,
and the shadows deepen,
full up with dust and cobwebs.
I am a shadow,
a pale imitation of the girl I knew.
I am this reflection;
the physical body has retreated
somehow,
and the energy dispelled.
This mirror shows my face,
but I do not know it anymore.
I only know the cold hard glass
which acts as mediator,
the thin line between reality and
appearance;
utterly impersonal, utterly objective.
Utterly lifeless:
it only shows one side of things,
it only shows one version of reality.
I think I’m lost,
lost somewhere far away
on the other side of the line-
on the other side
of the mirror.