…in the mirror

Drifting in the mirror, listless in silhouette
against an endless backdrop of scattered stars
sharp and shining, that closely resemble the scars that I bear
that I wear unseen, yet also unfading
that no mirror can ever reveal
I am carried away on waves of night
and waves of light, rolling over and over
keeping time with each crashing wave
there is pain, so much pain, again and again and again
time has now decreed the moment of my demise
it gently cradles me, silent and still as a grave
I hear the mirror calling my name, softly, like a lullaby
I am holding on to one slim thread of hope
to that thin line between sea and sky
drifting in the mirror, floating weightless
where a choice still remains
the choice to sink, the choice to rise
where on the surface, in silhouette, I paint the sky
and beneath, in the dark depths, invisible I will lie
the choice that is mine alone
no mirror will ever reveal
© Ann Bagnall