Sometimes I don’t recognize the girl in the mirror

She’s more like a porcelain doll

With a fine china face and strawberry lips

And gray eyes with no soul at all

The girl in the mirror claims she’s my body

But it feels that the stitch work

Between form and mind is quite shoddy

I follow behind

Trapped alone in my mind

In an experience out of body

An enigma

A spector

In my life I’m a spectator

And then I’m back

I’m home again

My body’s my own

And so is my mind

I’m aware

I am present

But then after a time

I’m back at the mirror

With the girl I don’t know

Staring back at me and waving hello

“Hello!”

She says

“Hello, I am you!”

But I’m just an enigma

A Specter

The spectator

Unable to say

“Just who are you?”

“I am you!”

She says

her cheeks colored pink

With a translucent glaze

And minuscule porcelain cracks

Her facade is breaking

Now I can’t distinguish

Who she is

And who am I?

The voice of logic

Says that I am she

But the voice of mind

Says it’s lies

Logic is reflected

Mind is considered

While there all the while

Is my reflection

The porcelain doll

Her fine china face

Her strawberry lips

And gray eyes with no soul at all

Her rose glazed cheeks

And porcelain cracks

I do not know the thing in the mirror

It is a porcelain doll

With a fine china face

Its strawberry lips

And gray eyes with no soul at all

Its rose glazed cheeks

And porcelain cracks

Just like her broken facade.

I wrote this when I was going through some disassociation stuff, but I’m a little bit better now. ALSO THE COVER ART IS MINE PLS DONT REPOST IT

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    The Girl In The Mirror

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