Cracks in the Mirror

I get up in the morning and look into the mirror.

The glass is spotless and is as clear as my skin.

Light bounces off the glass,

matching my jubilance as though I can see into the day.

Mirror, mirror, may my light burn ever bright!

Then the more the sun shines on my pale face,

the wearier of the light I become.

It blinds my eyes and I’m in unfamiliar territory.

The sun boils and cracks my skin.

My soul slips through the abrasions.

I wait for the black of night and for the grey fog to seep in

and I look at the mirror for the last time.

The cracks in the mirror match the lines on my face,

the lines as crooked as my worn and jagged teeth

The circles around my eyes match the shroud hanging over my soul.

Mirror, Mirror, what have you done to me?