Thursday, February 21, 2008

An Ode To Lee

I see you with your polished looks and cunning grace.
You, who mirrors someone else's reflections.
Whose eyes twinkle so much they blind with me
a steady light
Playing your smile until your fingers bleed.

Knots thrive in the hair you twist around your finger
Just like the lives of so many you've twisted
Wrapped, warped, warred. A war.
The mirror is cracking. You are caught on the outside.

Your fist is filled with your own locks
the polish was cheap, and it has tarnished
Don't even glance at me with your obnoxious light.
You can't see the blood on your face that you have
rubbed there

Because the mirror has cracked.

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