Mirror Image

When she looks in the mirror, she doesn't see too much...

frizzy curls that are soft to the touch...

maybe green eyes,

rimmed in violet and red,

from sleepless nights and visions

in her head.

Add another inch or two,

she says, maybe this will do.

A pinch of the cheeks and

a few seconds pass,

and little rouge blotches appear in the glass.

Her eyelids slide shut and she whispers,

"Too much."

Another shake of the head,

now she's seeing red,

and the black of her gown feels like lead.

She stands on her toes and

leans in close,

but all she can see are the scars,

and the ghosts.

Reviews

[Eagle Cruagh]

I could talk about this poem all day.

The outstanding points are brilliant.
I am unable to find any negatives.

A reviewers delight. There is nothing
wrong with your writing. Beautiful stuff !

Rate---- 100 %

----- Eagle Cruagh

[LeeLee Ryder]

Bravo.. great visuals
I love this part: (my digested version): head, red, lead.
The last ending lines are killers:
She stands on her toes and leans in close,
but all she can see are the scars, and the ghosts.
LeeLee
PS: Check out my poem: Daddy's Eyes in honor of your last line
Mirror to mirror imagery unite!

[They.Call.Me.Mo]

this is really good. you're a great writer