I’m the Image in the mirror on the wall,
insecurities rise then peaks! before the fall.
Struggling to see a face in that fading light
my mental disorders in this disgruntle fight.
Gray-black shadows consume my tiny little room
a dirty little mirror reveals the darkness that looms.
Every sound concedes to a bed wetting child in fear
it’s clear! in shadows or light each bump in the night.
Matted hair above unwashed skin, ants and roaches now
refuse to come in, how does it smell I no longer can tell.
I sit rocking back and forth on this ratted chair of despair
I stop hearing the life out in a world where nobody cares.
The voices I tried to avoid now the only thing filling the void,
my life! was it all just a dream or memories, I no longer can tell.
I’m a part of this room now manifesting my spells! my living
hell, a self-imposed jail, upon reaching the bottom of the well.
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