Skin Deep

Skin Deep

 

She holds the cold glass to her face

and its condensation kisses her cheeks

reminding her she’s still alive.  She wonders

into the vanity mirror but is met

with a cold stare strong

enough to break glass or hearts

or souls. 

 

She’s beautiful

but only in one sense of the word.

Her outward impressions of soft skin

and ocean-blue eyes match not

the dark inside her.  Her beautiful

blonde hair hugs her neck like a little boy

holds his mother.  Her glass is half full

but void of possibilities. 

 

The TV remains on in the background

serving no genuine purpose.  The vanity

is littered with an array of half-empty

pill bottles and loads of mascara.  She looks deep

into the vanity mirror, searching, wondering

where everything went.  It’s almost as if

she never blinks.