When Funhouse Mirrors aren't Fun Anymore
I am scared of looking in the mirror without being
afraid of what I’ll see, more afraid of what I won’t.
Hollow Opaque glass stares back, accusingly empty.
The mirrors of my eyes reflect myself back on to me
but allow only a glimpse. Wait, who is she? Slowly a
streak slides down the mirror distorting the glossy
surface. Someone somewhere inside is screaming
“Help me,” as I turn off the lights and leave,