Eyes locked in a mirror made of your soul Looking far back into your mind Your body not what you wish to be Your identity something constantly changing As you ask yourself who you are  As you ask yourself where to go As you ask yourself to become something other than. Wearing what reveals for attention of others eyes. Shamed into doing things that destroy the innocence of you. Stuck on an unending path to self demise, twisting and turning down a darkness that grabs onto you as if these reaching hands could be your salvation. In hope you do reach to them only to be thrown in a puddle of your own tears and blood.