Standing before a mirror Frail hands tucking my hair Who is that creature? Staring at me With such dejected irises
Mirror, Mirror on the wall, Kindly answer my call Where have they gone? The laughters, positivity, beauty That once made the heavenly bodies Wail with envy
Genie, Genie, Genie Bring back the gone me The bold, the reckless That was sucked in by The black hole of anxiety
Why can't the shard of glass cut any deeper? Poison spreads faster than a wildfire? Rope, sturdier? Skull, ribs, frailer?
Then like a bucket being filled, I came in to my senses All are futile Because I am long Deprived of life And I can't be D e a d e r any more
-The long dead
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Note:
The piece above is a product of an activity in one of my subjects and I edited it a bit and decided to post it here. And also, much thanks to a friend of mine for her stunning artwork! You can check her out on her instagram: a.burrsir
