Mirror, mirror on the wall

Mirror mirror on the wall
Why are you being so mean to me
While I do everything to please thee
Yet every day I walk in front of you
You crack a bit more at the edges
As if it strains you to see me go by
All nice and neat in my Sunday best
Even on a lousy work day

I must come to the conclusion that you do not one bit
With my clothes or my entourage agree
But what can I do, I must pay the bills
Otherwise the hoodlooms will get nasty
And my body will end up in the landfill.

My Mirror faithfully reflects
then, having pondered shows aspects
of self unseen in other's eyes
ah, but then, my glass never lies.
                            ii
I gaze into that scene within
with me without and looking in
wondering what might come to pass
it two were there seen, lad and lass.
                            iii
I angle for another look
and find not self but Eastern Suq
no painting this, but moving frame
of Eastern Delight, of worldly fame.
                            iv
At first in two dimensions seen
then glass, like water dripping clean
away, till all surrounds my sight
ear and nose with Eastern delight.
                            v
What magic this has my glass done
to place me under Eastern sun
my pallid features, winter clothes
amusing now, an Eastern beau?
                            vi
Sound and clamour surround us both
buyers, sellers, bargainers loath
to pay full price, all uncouth joy
but dimly heard by girl, by boy.
                            vii    
Neither as yet far into teens
unburdened by unfulfilled dreams,
and each from each took proffered hand
in that far away, romantic land.
                            viii
And I in thick knit trews and brogues      
amid ten thousand folk in robes
flowing cloaks and sandaled feet
many miles from Regent Street.
                              ix
But I can feel the quickening blood
in calm acceptance where we stood
acknowledgment that each had found,
a twin soul on common ground.
                                x
We wandered quietly, hand in hand
at peace with each on desert sand,
and of the many stalls passed by
here, in frames, glass, for all to eye.
                                xi
And there I saw its blackened back
hanging, twisting slow, that same crack
it slowly turns to show my face,
framed in frigid room, not market place.
                                xii
In an instant it is all gone!
the torrid heat, the wail of song,
and at my back a freezing room,
reflecting silence to this loon.
                              xiii
With leaden heart but quick hand
I pack a bag for desert land
my only spur a reddened brow,
and eyes that mirrored, mirrored vows...

My hair is knotted, shirt stained with blood.
I  can barely walk, I am lost in the pouring rain.
I have no where to go. I can barely see.
My nose is broken I am bruised from head to toe test after test, x-rays, and blood taken.
Doctor after doctor after doctor, I have cried for weeks my heart aches, the trust I once had has vanished, it is impossible to look at myself in the mirror, I am now disgusted by my own name I have nightmares and flashbacks, I am only seventeen, and I've truly feared for my own life. I had to give constant statements. Endless pictures were taken, at the time I looked my worst. The self-confidence I once had built is now shattered. Though it appears I  have healed, to the outside world, when I look in the mirror All I see is bruises, blood, and tears. I am raw.
I am cold. I know I am a beauty, but all I can see is a beast. I want my life back, but the constant reminder is there, everyone pulls me in a different direction to "cope", I have been to a literal hell on earth and back, now that I am the victim, now that I am me, can I look someone in the eye and say "Not guilty" with ease?

Is presence seemed the norm
the morning welcomes, steamy
in its portrait blurred, it sees everything
passions breath from sensualities despot
 lies and treachery, pleasures gain
to touch of frost, the smiling grimace
for none can see the crack, highs and lows
for it divides the married hidden split
its fissures are a perfect match
filled with the grout of loneliness
persona with its light and black
but in reverse with a hidden crack
a cloud of condensation laid
which side, the cleft revealed today