Poetry calms the nerves.

This piece of glass, reflecting back to me

Images of an empty shell, the woman that used to be

Tattered and torn, a soul lost in despair

I am no longer strong, too exhausted to care

What a miserable existence when one's heart turns to stone

Emotionless dark eyes, where life's light once brightly shown

Who is this woman staring back from the looking glass

She looks so tired and haggard, not like the woman I knew in the past

This broken body, so tired and so frail

Her skin has become withered, ghastly and pale

I feel so worn, it's hard for me to see

What's become of this woman, that used to be me

No more of this wretched monster reflected in this evil glass

Pounding the mirror, the pieces shatter, I watch them smash

Like the thousand dreams of my youth, crumbling down to the earth

I sit and reflect on what this life is worth

The ensuing silence is deafening, my heart beating fast


So much of myself learned from the woman in the looking glass