The Looking Glass Poem by Kel Smith

limp like a rag doll
she sits in the corner
staring, emotionless.
her eyes once sparkling
are left cold and vacant,
dead to the world.
heavily she moves,
a stranger to herself,
to those around her.
there is no pain, no anger
only numbness.
through the looking glass
of rose colored panes,
a breath of optimism unfelt.
the crystalline shatters
tiny pieces of pigment
now strewn amongst her toes.
Crying she kneels
the shards sting her skin.
white porcelain stained red,
her external world
is forever lost.