Windows to the soul,

a twisted road to the sin of who is hiding within,

all those dreams I had when I was you,

all the images bad and shiny,

blackening my door,

holding me at bay from the world beyond me,

locking my eyes away,

the mirror fades,

the door unlocks,

the sickness of the human body,

we realise how many stories we have told,

when the image before us is not who we are,

ashamed of the vison before me,

who was I meant to be,

who have I become,

would the child in me be happy with who I am today?