Sometimes I don’t recognize the girl in the mirror
She’s more like a porcelain doll
With a fine china face and strawberry lips
And gray eyes with no soul at all
The girl in the mirror claims she’s my body
But it feels that the stitch work
Between form and mind is quite shoddy
I follow behind
Trapped alone in my mind
In an experience out of body
An enigma
A spector
In my life I’m a spectator
And then I’m back
I’m home again
My body’s my own
And so is my mind
I’m aware
I am present
But then after a time
I’m back at the mirror
With the girl I don’t know
Staring back at me and waving hello
“Hello!”
She says
“Hello, I am you!”
But I’m just an enigma
A Specter
The spectator
Unable to say
“Just who are you?”
“I am you!”
She says
her cheeks colored pink
With a translucent glaze
And minuscule porcelain cracks
Her facade is breaking
Now I can’t distinguish
Who she is
And who am I?
The voice of logic
Says that I am she
But the voice of mind
Says it’s lies
Logic is reflected
Mind is considered
While there all the while
Is my reflection
The porcelain doll
Her fine china face
Her strawberry lips
And gray eyes with no soul at all
Her rose glazed cheeks
And porcelain cracks
I do not know the thing in the mirror
It is a porcelain doll
With a fine china face
Its strawberry lips
And gray eyes with no soul at all
Its rose glazed cheeks
And porcelain cracks
Just like her broken facade.
I wrote this when I was going through some disassociation stuff, but I’m a little bit better now. ALSO THE COVER ART IS MINE PLS DONT REPOST IT
