deepundergroundpoetry.com
Mirror
She’s observing me.
Bloated, sea-green eyes
Freckled with brownish bits.
Still pretty…
But.
There is more.
Cutting through her face
Are deep-set crevices
Bittered by the rigour
Of many lackluster years.
She’s attentive to the person looking back
Who’s undergoing a reckoning
Filing through
A flurry of anguish
At the lies she must believe
In order to rise from bed
Each day.
Bloated, sea-green eyes
Freckled with brownish bits.
Still pretty…
But.
There is more.
Cutting through her face
Are deep-set crevices
Bittered by the rigour
Of many lackluster years.
She’s attentive to the person looking back
Who’s undergoing a reckoning
Filing through
A flurry of anguish
At the lies she must believe
In order to rise from bed
Each day.
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