When I look in the mirror,
I see a standing image of myself
A weary soul tired of fighting,
A spirit broken from the weight surrounding.
I hear the silent screaming of a person so strong
That the acceptance of humanity left them.
When I look in the mirror
I don't Just see reflections
Cos reflections would always be there.
what I see is trembling and fear
That one day, that which i run from
Would end up catching on in steps
Over and over again into the mirror I stare
Trying to see what's left of my dreams
What's really left of me
This image I see
Is it truly a reflection of me
Or just a picture in my head.