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Beautiful Me

Beautiful me
In my broken mirror
Beautiful me not bearing to look
Because the mirror isn't the only thing
Cracked.
I didn't dare acknowledge
That someone tore me down to hell
By my struggling ankles,
Hit me on the head.
Strange; I smiled, I stunned, I dazzled
I thought I had everything
Well, I had everyone.
Beautiful
(silly)
me.
Slowly I look up
And I could trace every crack in my mirror
I did.
Now look at beautiful me.
Raggled hair
(once pampered with emerald green brushes)
Pink eyes
(no more masks)
Are those my lips?
(but they aren't glossed)
Is that me?
Staring at my bleeding fingertips
I guess so.
Beautiful me.
Yeah right.
I'm without a purpose.
I have no...
(use?)
I have no audience.


---

Note: not autobiographical.


all material on Faeries In My Coffee is copyrighted Liyana 2002, here's the disclaimer

 

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