By Laura Pathe
Why is it so hard to find yourself
Amongst this unkept rubble?
Lost within the reflections of
A maze of maddening mirrors.
Shuffling through the broken glass,
A film begins to form.
Eyes no longer hold the truth,
Reflections are no more.
Now fingers map the shattered hope,
Which once wound round the moon.
They trail through the powdered dust,
And paint the scenes of futures lost…
Why is it so hard to find yourself
In a land of broken mirrors?
The image shattered, cruel and lost,
Is stored within another’s.
To walk within that twisted land,
Of scenes of pain and hurt,
The feet must bleed upon the paths
of crunching glass and dirt.
Our worlds are broken in our minds,
There is no way to fix them.
We burrow in the debris of
Our land of broken mirrors.
You have to stop and reassess,
To wait, to pause, to think.
Sit within the shimmering dust –
Claw away from the brink.
Laura Pathe is currently studying for an MA in Gothic Literature. She recently moved to Manchester due to the city’s vibrant Gothic scene and writes as a way of expressing a sense of individualism in an increasingly fast-paced and demanding society.
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