Look in the mirror and what do you see?
Nothing, but little old me
The demon in your head
The one that hides under your bed
Look at me and I smile
Turn away and I become vile
Fangs drop from my charred gums
My voice transforms into a low hum
My skin turns a shallow gray
My clothes tattered and frayed
Two bloodied horns sprout from my temples
Freckled and dimpled
You leave your precious mirror
And I step out and creep nearer
Turning your thoughts sour
With each passing hour
Eat that?
Too fat
Like that shirt?
You could never make it work
They tell you 'such pretty eyes'
What nice lies
These are the demons that follow you around
Everywhere, all over town
But they are just monsters swimming in your head
Hiding under your bed
Just an illusion, a trick of the mind
So remember to be kind,
Kind to yourself
Don't believe in anyone else
Who says otherwise
Because those are lies.
-A.S
YOU ARE READING
Another Tragic Story
PoetryA collection of the thoughts and feelings I'm too afraid to share. These words are things I see, hear, taste, and feel. These are the words of my life on a page, this is the tragedy I see.
