Reflection

I cant write or sing,

But when i get that sting in the corner of my eye when i try to face the facts that i paste on the paper, you can call me a liar or a faker but i bet you cant grab that razor and drag it down your arm, because your brain will sound an alarm of harm that my mind has disarmed. I look up at you, but its not really you its just a reflection of what should have been, but never was. Instead i smash the mirror that withholds the real me and in fear that she will come closer to the owner of the body that demons have overtaken because she has foresaken the love of her own groggy body.