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Self Reflection

Foggy mirrors
In a misty room
Clothed in lemon and rose
Blanketed in heat, as I stand
With a blurred image
I donít care to see
The mess of me
Scrubbing skin
Dampening my hair
Though I am clean
There is a scum
No sponge has removed
Even coated in perfume
I smell it
An aftertaste, unrideable
Wiping the condensation from the glass
I catch a glimpse of my figure
Still glazed in droplets
Drenched blonde and porcelain
I saw, focusing in
Turning for my towel, until
I lost her
The glass had fogged again
Thetravelingfairy
Written by Thetravelingfairy
Published
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