Time has stolen her looks
The mirror treats her, with disregard,
She looks at it once, and it disappears in a blitz of shards
So she doesn’t bother anymore, with the glitz and garb
All that’s left are reminders of beauty in the films she’s starred, in
Vanity consumes her daily, while unhappiness fills in the margin.
Scared of a reflection, even stays away from glass
Because no matter how many times she’s looked,
In it, there’s never a face from the past.
Can’t get over it, like cutting blades of grass,
The pain always grows back, as if to ravage her heart.
Never goes out in public now, afraid of lenses,
And magazines with damaging remarks, about
How the curtains are always closed, how’s she managing in the dark?
The plastic surgeon is the only one who ever phones,
When it comes down to it, the surface is all she’s ever known,
And buried deep, beyond where all the stitches were sewn,
The doctor finds nothing but a void where only the sickness has grown.
When the insides ugly, you’re washed up and empty,
Nothing more than a shell,
When listened to, all you hear is the sea, with no story to tell,
Type of person, who wishes they’d spent more at the well.