look at the mirrior
i hate who i see in it
o wait its me
nina
i hate her
i wish she were missing
i wish she were gone
if only i didnt
if only i were content
i feel like punching, screaming, slapping, hitting, taking blows
and so i punch the mirrior
and as it shatters and breaks my skin
it stings but yet i just stand there and ignore it
as the many pieces of glass rain upon me
as my hand bleeds
there is some mirrior left
so i stand and stare...
and i stare at a bloody mirrior
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
so not true! you're beautiful! B-E-A-U-T-I-F-U-L! ! ! : P you know it!