• A garden of roses. A garden of seeds.
    Every thing dark and grey as far as eyes can see.
    Through the rusting and cracks little bars, I see the world from afar.
    Toes and heels touching cold and unfeeling metal floors.
    Relentless is it's chill. It's like hate. An open door.

    In here it's hot and frozen the same.
    From which direction, i wonder where it came.
    Everything near me, around me, inside me is red.
    While the mirror I gaze at, blue is what it says.

    "Mirror mirror, in my palm, which path do you consider so wrong?"
    A stray born from houses, in the garbage, you come from
    "Mirror mirror, in my palm, where do you think my happiness has gone?"
    Far away, ugly cow. How sad is your song.

    Why is it this room is so locked and guarded?
    Have I done something forbidden to even be started?
    And I wonder why this steel is wrapped in between my fingers
    And the iron smell covers my hand like blisters.
    This wetness lying in the corner of my mouth.
    My lips taste salt and the crimson that spills out.

    I'm so afraid here, the needles and the pills.
    And the steel in my hand, I fear it has killed.
    I'm so afraid of why i'm the only one in here.
    And across the hall, other "sick" people sleep near.

    "Mirror mirror in my palm, I'm so scared that i've done something wrong."
    You have killed young foolish girl, havn't you figured it out yet?
    "Mirror mirror in my palm, what of my memories that have long since gone?"
    So interesting how you do not remember how you became ill.
    "Mirror mirror in my palm, am I deserving of forgivness for what ever path i've gone?"
    How foolish. Of course not. Why don't you die?
    Right now? If only I had the courage to.
    But i'm so scared...
    of what i've done.