The cadence of insanity is
hidden in the rhythm of their laughter;
the madness in her eyes.
She's only the reflection,
who can see what they have done?
Oh look, her wrists they bleed.
The laughter echoes of the wall;
someone remind her how to breath.
Asphyxiate is frozen in her stare;
begging the walls to be quiet,
the sink is stained by blood,
her hand-prints scar the mirror.
The other her, outside the reflection, is grinning back.
There is a promise of relief somewhere under skin
if she can bring it to the surface,
perhaps, then, she can win.
The cadence of insanity
rips apart her flesh
blood wells to the surface
as blade and skin mesh.