She stands in the mirror
All curls and fake smiles
Wishing to be recognized
Or wishing that she dies

The practiced words “I’m good, and you?”
Rolling from red lips
A mind that doesn’t know the truth
A heart shattered to bits

What is good?
What is bad?
What is life?
She asks

Am I good?
Am I bad?
Am I alive?
She asks

A life is a pulse
A heartbeat, right?
Then why do I feel
Like I’m dead inside?

She stands in the mirror
All ruffles and skirts
Pleasing her narrative of life
Pleasing, although it hurts

A pretty corpse
With pretty clothes
Pretty hair
With pretty bows

You look at her
And see her pure
Innocent
And kind

She looks at herself
And sees hatred and pain
Maggots and flies
Behind beautiful eyes

You call her an angel
She calls herself rotten
You think she is seen
She feels she’s forgotten

By heaven and hell
Forgotten alike
No place to go
No place to die

So she stands in the mirror
Trapped in reflection
By the imagined curse
Of imperfection