Mirrors

Everywhere I turn a mirror finds me, reminds me, hates me, and changes me. Reflective surfaces line every space inside. No new feelings are evolved, only reflections, always reflections. Breathing in air of glass and weeds leaves nothing inside free, covered from head to toe in death, in darkness. Even in the glimpse of hope disappointment replicates again, I had wanted it to be different this time. Mirrors compile everything and as they pile high small cracks creep over everything. Everywhere I turn a mirror finds me, hides me, looses me, and disguises me.