the mirror

as the mirror watched from over there, 

her body jerked an awful shudder, 

what am i doing? she cried, as she pulled the endless hair thin spider thread from behind her neck and piled it in her naked lap, 

this shambled heap of unspun silk cant be all im worth...

can it?

and so she'd tug again and weep...

the pain was not her poison, it had no draw or power over her, 

but those moments inbetween...

she would live forever in those moments if she could and so the power lay in that exquisite nothing, 

in that unclench, 

in that exhale, 

in that peace between the hurt on either side.

this is why she couldnt stop, 

or maybe could if she would try, 

but on her own, she never would, 

and this is why she lay alone, 

and this is why she stood alone no matter who she stood beside. 

more than anything or anyone,

she loved nothing

but the mirror didnt care