Mirror, mirror
on the wall
what will happen
when my fruit falls
no longer lovely
like a doll
Will i wander
aimlessly
down memories'
frozen halls?
Wishing
i had held more awe
for my beauty
with all it's flaws?
I'm standing on
the razor's edge
between the Living
and the Dead
peeking through
to the other side
Breaking through
the ties that Blind
i step through
the Looking Glass
within my mind
And perhaps
before i'm old
i'll find
what i was looking for
all this time...

~ me