By Liz Marable
She's only happy when she's looking in the mirror.
The girl starring back with hollow eyes and a bleeding wounded mess of aortic emptiness.
She is hungry.
For an exit.
The door she passed through to get to this place is lost to her now.
Imprisoned in the pretty exterior and consumed in this,
Her waking nightmare.
The illusion and lightness of her chains and the heaviness of her burden were not fully felt until it was too late.
She voluntarily suffers as she looks out of the mirror at the girl who's free to go.
She screams at her to run from this lie,
To unlock her gilded cage and seek light and love and freedom.
But she's only happy when she's looking in the mirror.
The lie is so much prettier than the ugliness of truth.