The Mirror Lied

I stared into the mirror's glass, But saw no face, just smoke and ash. A grin that wasn't mine took hold, Its teeth were crooked, dead, and cold. It whispered truths I dared not know, Of buried screams and blood below. It showed me hands I'd never raised, Yet bore the stains of those I razed. Now every night I meet its gaze, Trapped in its ever-twisting maze. The mirror lied—or maybe not— I’ve just become the thing I fought.