Woke up in a frame and I was missing,

The girl in the glass, she’s reminiscing

Of someone I might’ve been,

Or just a version dressed in sin.

Every face I wear feels thinner,

Another lie, another winner.

But they all crack, they all bleed light,

A thousand selves caught in the fight.

I run my hands through shifting lines,

But none of them are really mine.

Ten thousand mirrors scream my name,

Not one reflects me quite the same.

I’m scattered thoughts, I’m silver rain,

Am I real or is this just pain?

I stitched myself in silver thread,

Between the frames of who I fled.

They smile with lips I used to know,

Their eyes, a reel of old shadow.

One laughs, one cries, one disappears,

One whispers truths I never hear.

They’re dancing slow, they take my hands,

I’m folded in their hollow plans.

Reflections twist in fluid grace,

But none belong to just one face.

Ten thousand mirrors blur and bend,

They break before I comprehend

Which soul is mine, which one’s pretend?

A gallery that never ends.

If I could burn them all to black…

Would silence bring the real me back?

Ten thousand mirrors, fractured truth,

I see a child, I see a noose.

I see the stars collapse to dust,

And all the selves I couldn’t trust.

am I still real?

am I still real?

am I still… real?