A Little Unethical

When I look in the mirror, this is what I see. I see a girl who doesn’t know what she wants to be. She only feels pain or a complicated mix. Her eyes are staring pools of a deep, inner light clouded by shadows. She feels other people’s joy, pain or angst. The curling feelings in her stomach rip at her nerves, twisted as diamond snakes. They stretch and cry bloody war and allow a war to rage inside. The face feigns peace, but like a broken mask there are little cracks. She sees the future of her death, all the inky lies bleeding from her plastic heart. Her body covered by a purple veil of uncertainty, because no one wants to look upon a ruthless truth no longer covered by a mask of lies. My mask is shattered. My truth descends to a place they call hell, but passion calls reality. A true reality. I grope in the dark unseeing until night is true for me. I start to see things beautiful in their horror. They take my broken soul and in return I am given unknowing peace in a cold, hard ground. But, feelings change above; rain washes away the last of me and I am one and whole again.