The Mirror

I see you standing there. I can't bring myself to care.
Your hair is a mess. Do you ever comb it?
Dark bags under your eyes. Too dark to cover with makeup.
Do you scare yourself to sleep at night? Or keep yourself up?
Your hands are shaking, stomach growling.
How long have you been standing there, staring?

Do you dream you're somewhere else? Why not just go?
You're transfixed. Unable to leave.
You see what's in front of you, but only criticize.
Your verbal daggers pierce the glass in front of you.
Boomerangs. They shoot back piercing my soul.
I want to leave. But I can not go. Oh how I wish I was not so alone.