Kissed by the guise of a smoky haze
Fragmentary versions of herself emerging from her distorted reflection
The past like a vice-grip on her mind, squeezing out sane thought
Haunting memories tugging at her tattered soul
Desirous for a little recognition and validation
As they continue to bruise her fragile emotions
Tears begin to trace the beauty of her delicate face
Her eyes are drawn back to her reflection
Daring her to take a closer look
At this horror story
Which is her life
Much like her innocence
The mirror offers her a distorted view
Masked with a hazy film
Like that of her clouded emotions
She sees a predatory man, hiding behind his authority
Satan gleaming in his eyes
He taunts her, meeting her glance
Through the filter, that is her memory
A three dimensional monster daring to
Emerge from the mirror and loom inside her reality
There is an echo within this mirror
Reflecting sounds her soul can not tolerate
The sound of a little girl who wants to be saved by her hero
Her pleas remain unheard, unacknowledged
For he is just beyond reach
Instead her cries are answered with a hand
Placed forcefully over her mouth
As a knife is forced inside her again and again
Until this beast grunts and is done with her once more
He leaves a bad taste upon the palate of her emotions
And places upon her the labels of shame
"Dirty dirty girl"
"Filthy little whore"
She turns away from her reflection
Grasping the ice pick that lay at her feet
Smashing her reflection, along with the remnants of her past
Reducing them to jagged fragments
Taking a jagged piece littered upon the floor
She cuts into her soft, fair flesh
Letting the blood decorate the floor with her self hatred
In scattered, runny patterns, like that of an abstract painting
Wishing no longer to be kissed by the guise of a smoky haze
It is now the kiss of death that tempts her lips
As Immortality reaches for her hand
Offering her a way out of this mortal existence
(c) by Jaeda DeWalt