The Mirror Knows

I told myself it wasn’t real.

The glass, the shape, the crawling feel.

But mirrors lie—they twist, they cheat,

And something waits where shadows meet.

-

Tonight, it moves when I do not.

Its head stays still, but bones have rot.

Its lips uncoil, its teeth are thin,

And all its smiles start from within.

-

I step away, it follows near.

Its nails tap soft, its eyes grow clear.

No longer glass—no longer fake,

It knows the sounds my tendons make.

-

"You made me, dear, you let me hatch,

Each buried thought, each deep-down scratch.

Each time you wished they'd choke and die—

I grinned, I fed, I watched you lie."

-

It lunges fast, the glass explodes,

My ribs are split, my marrow folds.

I try to scream, my throat turns black,

As fingers peel and muscles crack.

-

It climbs inside, it takes my face,

Its breath is warm—its voice is lace.

It wears my skin, it laughs, it sings,

It steals my name, my thoughts, my things.

-

And as it grins, as it deceives,

My shattered eyes watch from the leaves.

A soul now trapped where no one goes,

Behind the glass… where the mirror knows.