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Enter Poem or Quote (Required)Required Covered mirrors where a sign of unease in my house. I would cover them so I didn't have to see the skull with eyes looking back at me. Or to keep the lost souls from entering my house from other world's. Even the mirrors In my lap where covered with something to ease the pain of seeing myself in one. Facing myself In the mirror has always been the hardest thing for me to do. I couldn't even hold eye contact with the man in the mirror. I'd shy away from my own judgemental glare as I looked upon the shell of a man in the mirror. Do you love or even like what you see in your mirror? It was always easier for me to just cover them up with a sheet or not to even give the face of the body I see in it a second glance. Maybe if I drew a smile on it I could see what I would look like when I smiled. Why do the dull lifeless eyes in it pierce me so deep? Why don't I even recognize the person looking back at me? Seems like yesterday I was a teen getting ready for a party in it and now it's some strange man with a raging addiction looking back at me. Is this how everyone else sees me. Is what I see in line with everyone else's perception of me? Why would I ever uncover my mirror if every time I look in it it's another scar or character defect staring back at me. Why can't everyone just see me like I see me in my covered mirror.
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